


Season Six with a Twist Chapters 1-10

by kaitlia777



Series: Season 6: Twisted [1]
Category: 24
Genre: AU, Gen, Post Season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-26
Updated: 2010-05-03
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:17:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitlia777/pseuds/kaitlia777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an AU spin on some of the events and the aftermath of 24 Season 6 with a focus on Jack and Chloe</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

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So, this fic begins set in season 6 and follows that the major plot points are the same. Some notable changes: Morris is not in the employ of the CTU, had left about a month prior. He still gets grabbed by Fayed for his tech skills. Other changes will be noted as they come up.

Of course, I'm gonna add a chlack twist

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THE FOLLOWING TAKES PLACE  
BETWEEN 2:00 P.M. AND 3:00 P.M.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chloe O'Brien exited the situation room, having been tasked with tracking how Gredenko managed to get himself in the United States. Personally, she thought a better question was why the hell the Russian government had assigned an ultranationalist with a major hate-on for the US to transport a bunch of nukes into the States.

Before she was even out of the door, she noted a few agents leading Morris onto the floor, directing him toward Medical. It was the first time she'd seen him in nearly a month an he looked awful. Granted, that probably had something to do with the time he spent in Fayed's company and she really hoped he'd tried to get back on the program after leaving CTU. His fall off the wagon had put the final nails in the coffin that contained their relationship, but that didn't mean she had stopped caring about him.

Chloe approached as a doctor stepped in to lead the wounded man away for treatment. "Morris," she said, unsure how or even what to express. Sorry the psycho terrorist tortured you. She knew she wasn't so good with interacting with other human beings, but even she knew that sounded very insensitive.

"We have to take him to medical," the doctor informed her in the odd sort of monotone many of the CTU medical staff often used.

Not one to give in easily, Chloe didn't relent. "I just want to talk to him for a minute. Are you okay?"

He didn't answer and the doctor hustled him off, saying, "Give us 10 minutes."

They disappeared, leaving Chloe standing there alone. She just wanted to make sure he was going to be all right. God, computers were so much easier to deal with than people.

Glancing up, she saw Bill Buchanan and Milo Pressman watching her through the glass wall and quickly turned, not wanting, needing or, she felt, deserving pity. After all, she wasn't the one the cranky terrorist with the drill had perforated.

Another group of agents in full black tactical gear arrived and Chloe froze when she saw Jack Bauer enter behind them. He looked good, far better than she had dared to hope for after 20 months of torture in a Chinese prison (and especially after seeing how wrecked Morris was after spending less than an hour in Fayed's company.). She had read Bill's report earlier, seen the notes about extensive and horrific scarring, but those injuries must have been concealed by his jeans, long sleeved grey shirt and tac vest.

She felt the salty sting of tears prick at her eyes and blinked them back as the room fell into a hushed silence and the agents present turned, nearly as one, to stare at Jack. Here, in their office, was a man thought dead, who had resurfaced only long enough to avert a massive bio-weapon attack and topple a corrupt president only to be grabbed up by the Chinese and endured months of God only knew what kinds of torture before being brought back to the US to be used as a bargaining chip against Fayed, who double crossed them anyway…..

Hell, they were probably all shocked he was upright and coherent, let alone an active participant in the operation to try and stop today's terrorist du jour. Most people would have either been dead for real or crouched, twitching in a corner, praying for an Ativan the size of a football. But Jack wasn't most people.

Chloe continued to watch as Buchanan approached Jack, greeting him and quickly filling him in on their new Intel, the email fragment that indicated Gredenko's involvement. According to Jack, his father hadn't been a part of that deal, but Bill was advising caution. Chloe knew better, sure Jack would have questioned his father without the prompting, maybe after the man finished up in the morgue.

Sigh. She didn't particularly like working in a facility that had it's own Morgue, but what could she do. It was better than having bodies smelling up the place. The neighbors complained enough about the tactical team exercises and occasional explosions such without giving them decomposing flesh odor to whine about…Although, maybe they'd think twice about bugging the people who worked in a place that smelled like death.

During his talk with Bill, Jack had turned slightly, his gaze catching Chloe's for a moment. She hoped she'd managed to blink back any potential tears, as for the rest of his conversation, Jack kept shooting glances back over to her.

Promising to speak with his father, Jack asked where he could find him and Chloe flinched in sympathy when Bill informed him that Phillip had gone to the morgue to view Graem's body.

Obviously pained by this, Jack thanked Bill before stepping away and making a beeline for Chloe.

For the first time in nearly two years, Chloe found herself face to face with Jack, looking into his sad blue eyes, hearing his low, rumbly voice in person, as he asked, "Chloe, you all right?"

She wanted to cry again. Why was he asking her if she was all right? She wasn't the one who had been tortured, sent to die, then later had to kill a friend and possibly his own brother. It just seemed wrong that he was the one to ask that.

Somehow, she couldn't express all of that and breathed, "Yeah. Thank you for saving Morris's life."

"Yeah," he replied simply.

She glanced down, nervous as she said, "I'm really glad Fayed didn't kill you this morning." I thought you were dead today, Jack. Thought we handed you over to someone who wanted to kill you horribly. I haven't cried that hard in years. Please don't die today!

She didn't say all of that and he just quirked a crooked little smile at her and said, "Me too…I have to talk to my dad. I just wanted to thank you for everything."

Chloe smiled slightly as Jack reached out and rubbed her arm for a moment before turning away. Conflicted, Chloe turned toward her station before taking a breath and spinning back on her heel. "Jack!"

He hadn't gone too far and stopped as she called out, turning with a question written on his face.

Not saying anything, Chloe closed the distance between them rapidly, refusing to second guess herself as she wrapped her arms around Jack's neck and shoulders, pulling him close and burying her face against the side of his neck.

For a moment, he stiffened, then she felt his body relax and his arms came up to enfold her in a strong hug. His breath stirred her hair as his hands gripped her back and she knew she was shaking, knew people were staring and found, in that moment, she couldn't have cared less.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack had been stunned when Chloe had thrown her arms around him and pulled him close. His initial response was to remain rigid, as he had with Graem earlier, but then he felt Chloe shuddering, felt her tears on his neck and a warmth flooded him. This was Chloe. This was okay.

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, reveling in the first real, gentle caring touch he'd known in 20 months. He couldn't remember the last time he held someone and felt such an overwhelming flood of relief and comfort.

Ignoring the stares from the agents around them, ignoring Milo's shocked look and Bill's raised eyebrow, Jack pressed his face into Chloe's hair, brown now, not blond, and breathed in the soft, lavender scent.

He really would have liked to just forget about all the shit that was going on and just stay there, safe and warm in the arms of someone who cared for him, someone who would never hurt him…But he knew this moment of comfort could only be fleeting.

Slowly, with no small measure of reluctance, he drew back, touching one of Chloe's smooth, pale cheeks with his scarred hand and pressing a chaste kiss to the other. His eyes closed for a moment when he felt the soft, warm brush of her lips return the gesture.

They moved apart, communicating with looks traded between damp eyes. Without having to speak, they knew. When this was over, when the current crisis was put to rest, if they both survived, then they'd talk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE FOLLOWING BEGINS  
JUST AFTER 9:00 A.M.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turning the key to cut of the ignition of her SUV, Chloe closed her eyes and just sat in her driveway for a moment. At quarter of 9, she had left the CTU for the first time in over two days. That was a long stretch in the office, even for her, but they were all maxing out on overtime in an attempt to track down the terrorists whom had been staging attacks for the past 3 months.

She was utterly exhausted, both physically and emotionally. For the moment, the threat had passed, Fayed and his associates were all dead (save Cheng, who was facing a long stay in Federal Prison).

Bill had returned to the CTU with Jack's nephew Josh in tow and a shackled Cheng. As thrilled as she was that they had saved Josh, Chloe was very concerned by the fact that Jack was in the wind. The fact that she had overheard Josh's loud retelling of Jack's intentional fall from the ladder…well, that wasn't helping matters any.

To top everything off, only a few hours earlier she had learned that she was pregnant! By Morris, obviously it had happened not long before their break up. Earlier in the day, after agents had debriefed him, Chloe had spoken to Morris for a few moments and he had reiterated that their split was the right choice. She didn't disagree, but not for the reasons he espoused. They just weren't a good couple, the fact that they had already been divorced once should have been the first clue attesting to the truth of that.

As a modern woman of the 21st century, she knew she had options and some time to think about them. Heck, when she was ready, if she decided to have the baby, she could tell Morris. If he wanted to take part in the baby's life fine, if not, also fine. But for now, she just wanted to sleep.

Climbing slowly out of the car, Chloe sighed and looked around her neighborhood. Most of the neat little houses had a couple cars in the drive ways, as non essential businesses and schools were still not open. The area might as well have been abandoned though. It was silent, not children playing, no one mowing lawns, not even pets in the yard. She supposed that was in reaction to the nuclear blast in Valencia the day before and really, she didn't blame them for being cautious.

In all honesty, she would have preferred the convenience of apartment living, no upkeep, a landlord to deal with maintenance, but had decided the solitude of owning her own small home was better. In a neighborhood full of young families and retirees, no one tried very hard to get to know the single lady who worked strange hours, often rushing out in the middle of the night.

Shouldering her purse, she all but staggered up the walkway, tossing a brief wave at Mrs. Nomberto, her elderly neighbor, who was peeking out from behind her curtains. Which was why she was nearly at her door when she noticed something that made her freeze. A smile ghosting over her tired face, she asked, "Enjoy your swim?"

Leaning back against the wall by the door, head back, Jack's eyes popped open, regarding her with an exhaustion she could sympathize with. "Refreshing," he murmured, giving her a tiny smile of his own. "Cathartic."

She had an inkling that there was a story behind that comment, but that could wait for now. As for how he remembered where she lived…Wait, no, she'd only moved in a year ago. He must have…actually, she wasn't sure how he'd gotten her address but she shrugged it off as one of those inexplicable Jack things.

"Let's get inside," she said, extending a hand to help haul him to his feet.

The fact that he allowed her to help him to his feet let her know how truly wrung out he really was. As she opened the door, she noted that he continued to hold on to her hand, could feel the raised scars under her thumb.

They entered quietly, without any comments about the hand holding. Chloe dropped her keys and purse on the small table by the door, then led him into the living room.

She had a feeling Jack wouldn't care that she lacked whatever freakish genetic mutation Martha Stewart had managed to convince the country all women should possess, the thing that allowed them to decorate and select the perfect lamp to match the perfect drapes. Honestly, the thought of wasting time on that sort of stuff turned her stomach. He furniture was comfortable, electronics high end and shelves stacked with books. No, knick-knacks, doilies and throw pillows were just not her thing.

Settling Jack onto the couch, she wandered into the kitchen and peered into the fridge. Scowling at the contents, as there wasn't much food and what was there seemed to be developing a layer of green fuzz, she grabbed two bottles and returned to the living room.

With a relieved sigh, Chloe sank onto the couch beside Jack and offered him one of the bottles.

It was nice to hear him laugh, a real happy sound. He took one of the bottles and this time, his smile was much broader. "Sunny Delight?"

"It's tasty and better than soda…but we need a little sugar," she reasoned, twisting the lid off of her drink and sipping it. The cool, sweet tanginess of the juice tasted wonderful, especially after days of subsisting on nothing but coffee.

Jack took a drink as well. "Not bad. I haven't had this…since Kim was a little girl."

With a start, Chloe said, "I can get her number…her address." She really should have known he would want to get in touch with Kim. He hadn't seen her in nearly two years!

Chloe had started to push herself off of the couch when Jack caught her arm and pulled her back. "No, Chloe…not yet…I can't…Kim isn't…."

As usual, Chloe knew what Jack was saying. She might not have been particularly adept at dealing with some…all right, most people, but there had always been an understanding between Jack and herself. They shared a defining trait, a dedication to their work that pushed aside other loyalties. In some respects, they were misfits, outcasts, not really comfortable function amongst people who weren't like them. Jack didn't judge her for her lack of people skills (he was much better at faking them than she was) and she knew about everything Jack had done in the service of his country, understood his reasons for doing them and didn't judge.

"Okay," she said and they lapsed back into companionable silence, tipping her head back and allowing her eyes to close, just for a moment.

When she opened them, what seemed like seconds later, she found she had the most uncomfortable crick in her neck and the bottle of Sunny D against her leg had grown warm in the un air-conditioned room. Blinking, she glanced at the clock on her DVD player and her jaw dropped. It was, according to the display, 3:47 pm.

How the hell had that happened?

Turning her head, she tried to work the kink out of her neck and caught sight of Jack, still ensconced on the other end of the couch. He too appeared to have nodded off and at some point had pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

Chloe recognized a defensive posture when she saw one and her heart hurt for him. Even in the peaceful safety of her living room, his automatic response was to protect himself from attack even as he slept.

If she was longing for her bed after a couple of days of doing without, she couldn't even imagine how Jack must have felt. An internal debate raged. Wake him, see if maybe he would like a shower, then sleep in a real bed, or let him continue to sleep on the couch.

The loud protests from her muscles made the decision for her and she scooted closer to him in order to shake him awake.

In retrospect, not the best idea.

As soon as her fingers touched his arm, Jack was awake and in motion, lunging towards her, forcing her prone onto the cushions, one hand reaching up to wrap around her throat. His eyes were wide and full of rage, but cleared almost immediately, before he even had a chance to exert any pressure on her neck, which she was quite thankful for. He stared down at her, breathing rapidly, before asking, "Chloe?"

Pinned underneath him, Chloe knew she should be afraid. After all, it wasn't everyday that someone with a body count that numbered in the hundreds got a hand around her neck. But as she lay there, arms sprawled loosely above her head, hips between his knees and faces inches apart, she felt no fear, no shot of adrenaline, no panic. He could probably fell the slight jump in her heart rate under his thumb, but that was mostly due to being startled.

Her trust in Jack was stronger than her fear though and her voice was even as she said, "We fell asleep on the couch."

"Oh." He glanced down and for a moment seemed fascinated by the flesh under his fingers. In another circumstance, were they not both still over tired and he probably heading towards some sort of PTSD crash (Jack freaking Bauer or not, he was only human and had been through hell), she might have allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of his rough fingers stroking her throat. Some random part of her brain noted that he smelled like a mixture of salt water and man sweat. She remained quiet until he came back to the present, shook his head slightly and climbed off of her. "Sorry, Chloe, I didn't mean to…Did I hurt you?"

He sounded more panicked than she had even contemplated feeling and shook her head as she pushed herself back upright. "No, I'm fine," she said, then waved a hand in the direction of the bathroom and bedroom. "The bed's just more comfortable than the couch…or you can grab a shower, clean up while I grab some food. And maybe a change of clothes for you. I don't think I have anything that will fit you."

This seemed to shake him out of the strange, complacent haze they had been functioning in since she had found him at her front door. "I'm fine, Chloe…I should go. Let you…"

"You should stay!" she interrupted him with more force than she had intended to use, but really, the situation called for it. Maybe it was like she saw on that show with the creepy guy who talked to dogs. When Jack got something in his sights, he fixated and it was imperative to snap his attention away or else complete tunnel vision would set in. Then she'd never be able to change his mind. "I'd like you to stay, please."

She reached out and wrapped her fingers around his un-scarred wrist lightly and watched him. He visibly relaxed and she knew she'd won even before he nodded. "A shower would be nice," he agreed with a small smile.

"Okay, good," she said. "You take a shower and I'm gonna pop out to the market, then stop and grab some sweats or something for you. You like pizza? Or I could pick up some…Tacos."

She caught herself just before she offered Chinese food. That probably wouldn't be the most appropriate thing to say.

Jack didn't seem to notice her little hesitation and his smile grew. "Pizza? Pepperoni?"

"Sure." She stood and pointed to the hall. "Bathroom's the second door on the left. Towels are in the closet. New toothbrush is in there too."

He nodded, then said, "Chloe…thank you. Again."

With a smile, she stepped toward the door, then hesitated, turning to face him. "You are going to be here when I get back, right? Cause, if you're not, I need to know. I don't think I could deal with that today…It's just…."

"I'll be here, Chloe," he said softly. "I promise."

With his promise soothing her nerves, she headed out into the afternoon, still quiet in the shadow of the previous days horror. But she felt safer than she had in a long, long time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The upside to the intense, paralyzing fear engendered by a barely averted nuclear Armageddon was the fact that there was almost zero traffic on the roads ( She was convinced that Jack had some sort of portable wormhole generator. It was the only plausible explanation as to how he managed to get around LA as quickly as he did.) and the stores were nearly abandoned. Even the looters one would usually expect to see out in droves after a disaster were pretty rare. Apparently, radiation was scarier than greed was strong.

Her first stop was the Super Wal-Mart. It made good, practical sense, despite the fact that she wasn't all that fond of the corporate giant. She could get food and clothes there, then grab the pizzas on the way home.

Of course a little thing like a nuclear bomb detonating in Valencia wouldn't be enough to make Wal-Mart close for a couple of days. Entering the store, she was met by a chilly blast of air conditioning and a chipper "Hello, Welcome to Wal-Mart!" from the greeter, who had to be old enough to be Chloe's grandmother.

Grabbing a cart -- Victory! It wasn't one with a squeaky wheel-- she made her way over to the men's clothing section. Staring at the array of choices, she let out an annoyed huff. Asking Jack for his sizes would have been a good idea, but she figured it wouldn't be too hard to make some guesses. Socks were easy enough, so she dumped a 10 pack of Hanes socks in the cart, but hesitated over the boxers.

With a sigh, she looked around the area and spotted a small gaggle of sales people nearby. Pointing at one of the men, she said, "Excuse me…Yes, you. Come here, please."

The young man came towards her, curiously peering at her and the section of the store she was perusing. "How can I help you?" he asked with a bland, nervous smile.

Chloe cocked her head and looked at him critically. Close enough. "I need to buy some things for a friend. I don't know his sizes, but he's about your height, maybe 25-30 pounds lighter. What size should I buy?"

Obviously not used to being put on the spot like this, the young man, Tim, according to his name tag, seemed taken aback. "Umm," he said with a blink as he grabbed a pack of boxers. "These'll be okay."

She looked at the package. "Are you sure? I've had a hell of a few days and I just wanna go home and rest for a couple of days."

Tim sniffed, then said, "I don't mean to be rude, lady, but everyone's had a bad time lately. It was supposed to be my day off, but I got called in cause people didn't come in to work. You're not at work, so how are you having a worse time than me?"

Oh, it's on, Cupcake. "How? Really?" She grabbed the boxers and took a step towards Tim as she dropped them in her cart. "Well, let's just put aside the whole nuclear strike. That sucked for us all. On top of that, I am a CTU agent." Not any sort of national secret there.

She took another step towards him, finger pointing at his chest. "A close friend was shot in the head only a few feet away from me." Don't go into detail.

Step and finger jab. "Another friend of mine, the guy I'm shopping for, was just released from a Chinese prison, where he was beaten and tortured. Why was he there? He saved the country and some people didn't like that!" Haul it in Chloe, getting close to classified info there.

Tim backed into a rack of clothes as Chloe finished her rant, "And, the final straw? I'm freaking pregnant! All I want is a little help so I can go home. If you can't manage that, get me someone who can!" Top that, Asshat!

One of the other sales assistants, Annie, stepped up. "Go help Sam, Tim," she said. "I can help you, ma'am."

With Annie's help, Chloe picked up a few packs of t shirts, long and short sleeved, a couple pairs of Wrangler jeans, a grey hoodie, a few heavy twill work shirts and some soft cotton sleep pants. Still, she was pretty sure the staff of the men's clothing department was very happy to have the crazy lady leave in search of groceries.

Maybe she had over-reacted, but she thought maybe she deserved a little slack after the day she had.

Once confronted by the choices in the grocery section, she decided to expand beyond her usual selection of frozen meals. There were some in her freezer at home, and she knew there were canned goods, pasta, sauces and peanut butter in the cupboards, but she needed pretty much everything else. Whatever else she knew about prison, she was sure that Jack hadn't been eating nutritionally balanced meals in a long while.

Cereal, oatmeal, granola, 2 loaves of bread and hamburger buns joined chocolate, popcorn, granola bars, potato chips, pretzels and peanuts in the cart. Instead of just soda, she picked up bottled water and orange and cranberry juice, also milk, butter, cheese, cottage cheese, eggs, yogurt and mayonnaise. And, of course, Ice Cream. Lots of Ice Cream.

The meat gave her pause, then she shrugged. She could just buy a bunch of stuff and freeze it. So she grabbed a selection of deli meats, bacon, steak, hamburger, pork chops, sausages and hot dogs. Produce was a bit easier. Apples, bananas, grapes, oranges and strawberries as well as broccoli, carrots, celery cucumbers, lettuce, onions, potatoes and tomatoes.

By the time she pushed the cart to the check out line, it was overflowing. Standing there, she called Papa Gino's and ordered 2 large pepperoni pizza's. Picking them up on the way home was simple. All in all, the trip took a little more than an hour, an accomplishment that she was quite proud of.

Piling the food on the kitchen table and counter, she carried the bag containing Jack's new clothes back towards the bedroom. As she passed the bathroom, she heard the shower still running and quickly selected a pair of navy cotton pants and a white t-shirt and boxers, before carrying them back to the bath.

"Jack?" she called, knocking on the door and getting no response. This worried her. "Jack, I'm gonna come in, okay?"

Worry overpowered potential embarrassment as Chloe pushed the door open and was immediately hit by an almost opaque wall of steam. The water must have been near scalding to create such a cloud and the whole room felt like a sauna. Placing the clothes on the small towel rack, she crossed to the window and opened it, hoping the room would clear. "Jack, are you all right?"

Still no answer. Damn it. She didn't see any movement beyond the curtain and, steeling herself, gripped the edge of the curtain. "I'm gonna open the curtain."

If he was having some sort of PTSD fit, maybe hearing her voice would help keep him grounded enough not to yank her spine out through her mouth.

Though she might have preferred that gruesome thought to the reality she found. Jack was sitting on the floor of the tub, knees hugged to his chest and head bowed. The hot water pounded down on him and from the smell (and the fact that the cap was off the shampoo. Why were men incapable of putting caps back on?), she knew he'd gotten washed before…deciding to just check out for a while.

Not that Chloe blamed him. She'd seen his hand, read Bill and Curtis's reports, but none of that prepared her for the sight of the extensive damage. Scars covered much of his exposed back, shoulders and arms, old wounds, cuts, burns and things she couldn't identify, criss-crossing with newer, still healing scars and bruises. She couldn't even imagine suffering through the sort of pain he had to have endured…and Bill had noted that Cheng mentioned Jack hadn't said one word in 20 months.

Chloe wasn't a crier, but she knew some of the moisture on her cheeks wasn't from the billowing steam. Dropping to her knees by the side of the tub, she reached out and gently touched his short, blond hair. "Jack," she said his name again and this time, between her voice and touch, got a reaction.

Jack raised his head and blinked at her in confusion. "Chloe?" he asked, not seeming particularly embarrassed or startled, just surprised. "What're you doing back so soon?"

"I've been gone over an hour," she said, quickly turning off the taps so the water would stop hitting him in the face. "I think you might have lost track of time." Act like you don't see the scars. Compartmentalize. If he wants to talk, fine. Just try not to say the wrong thing….

"Oh," he said simply as she stood and grabbed up a fluffy towel. It was a deep rose shade, the first one her hands landed on. She passed it to him with an awkward smile.

"I put a change of clothes there." She pointed to the small pile of clothes she had set on the towel rack. "I'm gonna get the kitchen ready."

"Thanks," he said again. He was being quiet, even by Jack standards, but she supposed that was to be expected after everything. Hell, it was probably adrenaline and sheer will that had kept him functioning throughout the crisis.

She made it out into the kitchen, turned on the faucet and scooped up a dish towel, raising it to her mouth just in time to muffle her sobs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Swiping a hand across the steam fogged mirror, Jack braced himself on the edge of the sink. The blurry mirror showed a distorted reflection and that was almost a relief. Earlier-- no, yesterday --, when he had seen a mirror for the first time in nearly 2 years, he'd been taken aback.

Sure, his body bore may visible marks of his captivity, but Cheng and his men had left his face mostly intact. It seemed wrong somehow, that the features he saw in the mirror remained unchanged from those that he remembered from before. An experience like that changed you so profoundly that he felt it should be readily evident. Some water, a shave and haircut, clean clothes and, to an outsider, it was like it had never happened.

But it had.

And he would never, never forget. The memories were carved into both his body and soul….

He jerked out of his dark reverie, suddenly aware of the implications of the fact that Chloe had been in the bathroom with him. She had pulled back the shower curtain and shaken him free of the memories he had fallen into. There was no way she hadn't seen the evidence of Cheng's sadism, forever clear on his flesh.

Chloe knew, of course. Jack harbored no illusions that she would have been foolish enough to assume he'd come though more or less unscathed, but abstract awareness was an all together different creature than concrete knowledge. He was just grateful she hadn't reacted like Bill, Curtis and even Assad, who had all gaped at the extent of the damage.

It made him uncomfortable and he was thankful that Chloe had somehow seemed to know that. But he knew she had to have been affected, she was his friend and, despite a few personality quirks, really did care about people. She just expressed herself differently. He could relate.

Drying himself quickly, he slipped into the soft, clean clothes. Everything fit loosely and, of course, the pants were a little long (as always), but Chloe had done a good job guessing his sizes. It hadn't even occurred to him to tell her that information before she left.

As he knotted the drawstring, he smiled a little to himself. Maybe the information was in his personnel file.

Padding barefoot out of the bathroom, he headed out towards the kitchen, where he could hear the sounds of Chloe moving around. He could smell the pizza, the pepperoni, melted cheese and grease…it was funny what you missed.

Chloe was roaming around the kitchen, shoving food into the fridge and cabinets. The pizza boxes sat on the counter, beside two plates and glasses. Some random part of his mind noted that one of the plates had little butterflies decorating the surface. It was a whimsical touch, unexpected and delicate…

"I'd say you should have juice or milk, but neither goes with pizza. So, Root Beer or Sprite?" Chloe asked, turning to face him, face a little blotchy and red eyed, apples clutched in her hands. "And apples, fridge or counter?"

Jack blinked and racked his brain for an answer. It had been a long time since he'd had an apple. Granny Smith's were his favorite. He'd always enjoyed biting into them, the first taste of fresh, tart, cool juice on his tongue… "Fridge," he said with a nod.

"Good." She stuck the fruit in the crisper and her hand hovered by the cans of cola on the door. "Soda?"

"Root Beer," he said, stepping over to the pizza boxes and placing two slices on each plate.

They carried their food and drinks around to the other side of the counter, where two stools were tucked under the overhang. "I eat at the counter," she offered by way of explanation, then glanced at the small attached dining room, which contained an impressive computer set up instead of the usual table and chairs. "I don't entertain."

Settling onto a stool, he nodded. That made perfect sense to him. Why waste the space?

The pizza was good, the cheese hot and melty, sauce flavorful and crust un-burnt. After so long subsisting on the bland food provided by his jailers, the pepperoni burned his mouth a bit, but he wasn't about to complain. It was a good burn.

They ate silently, Jack slowly working his way through his food, not wanting to shock his stomach, while Chloe powered through hers and grabbed two more slices.

As Jack glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, he realized she was still wearing the black shirt and skirt she had worn when he had first seen her over a day earlier. The bite of pizza he had been in the process of swallowing caught in his throat. Time and time again, Chloe went out of her way to help him, usually when no one else would. It was silly, he knew, that this was what shook him, after all the times she'd risked her job and time in federal prison to help him.

Taking a sip of his root beer to clear his throat, he coughed, carbonated bubbles unexpectedly shooting up into his sinuses. He raised a hand to rub his nose vigorously and clear his eyes.

Chloe looked over at him, obviously concerned and he saw her eyes tick to the thick, gnarled scars on his hand before locking on his face. "You okay?" she asked, rapidly swallowing her own mouthful.

"Soda up my nose," he murmured, turning back to his plate and trying to unobtrusively drop his hand below the counter, out of sight.

With a nod, Chloe took another bite of her pizza, but didn't say anything. Which was why he was surprised when her hand found his and interlaced their fingers without comment. He could feel the smooth, soft skin on the back of her hand under his fingers and knew hers would be resting on the raised mess on his.

Somehow, he was okay with that.

They finished the rest of their meal in peace, hand in hand. When they'd each had their fill, Chloe got up and moved to place the dishes in the sink.

"I can do that," Jack offered, making her look at him questioningly. "I'll clean up," he elaborated, "If you want to grab a shower or something."

"Okay," she agreed with a little hesitation. "There's cookies in the cabinet, chocolate in the candy jar….Oh and Ice Cream in the freezer."

Her continued, unique, Chloe-like fussing made him fell safe and…home wasn't the right word, but it was the closest his tired mind could come up with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taking a shower much quicker and less scalding than Jack's, Chloe slid into her own pajamas, despite the fact that it was still light out. They were both still exhausted and she thought it would be a good idea to turn in early. Very early.

She found Jack sitting at the counter again, kitchen cleaned and washed dishes drying in the strainer. The idea of Jack doing something so normal and domestic was foreign, but he was obviously adept at the task.

He had found the chocolate, like she had known he would. The purple, paper wrapper of a Cadbury Dairy Milk bar sat on the counter beside the silver wrapped block of candy. Jack had broken off one of the rows of three chocolate squares and had eaten one.

She had always found it kind of adorable that macho, more than a little scary Jack Bauer had a definite chocolate habit. Still, as far as vices went, it was a pretty mild one.

He pushed the chocolate across the counter towards her and she accepted the treat, popping a square of the creamy chocolate melting on her tongue. The light filtering in from outside had take on a distinctly orange hue and somehow, everything seemed a bit ethereal and surreal. The light, the silence, the exhaustion after the chaos of late…..

"Is it too early for you to sleep?" she asked Jack, who shook his head as she folded the foil back around the rest of the chocolate.

He stood up. "Honestly, I could sleep for a week," he said, a sentiment Chloe could find no fault in.

Now that she had poised the question, she hesitated. It was silly, really. It's not like she wasn't used to sleeping alone. Hell, she usually preferred it. Maybe it was the weird pregnancy hormones that always seemed to make people crazy combined with a nagging fear that Jack was gonna disappear again, but she didn't want to let him out of her sight just again just yet.

"Chloe?" he asked, peering at her as she pondered how to handle this.

"There's a guest room," she blurted awkwardly, then flapped her hand in a random gesture. "I'm just…after everything, I don't…."

She trailed off, frustrated. Communicating her emotions had never been her forte.

Jack, however, somehow seemed to understand her meandering ramble. "No, me neither."

Biting her lip for a moment, Chloe offered, "I don't snore or steal the covers."

The noise that came out of jack's mouth sounded more like a cough, but Chloe was pretty sure it was a laugh. "Okay."

Climbing into bed with Jack was a lot less strange than she had envisioned. As seemed to be the pattern for the day, little was said as Chloe simply sat on her normal side of the bed and Jack took the other. The curtains blocked most of the light, but enough still filtered in that, were she not so tired, sleep would have been impossible. As it was, they both yawned as they settled under the light covers.

Soon they were dozing and Chloe rolled onto her side, burrowing her cheek into the pillow below her head. Still, she was startled when a heavy arm draped around her, then jerked away.

"Sorry," Jack mumbled, scooting back to the other side of the bed. He had migrated towards her as he fell asleep. Apparently, Jack was a cuddler. Who knew?

"It's okay," she surprised herself by saying. "I don't mind."

Behind her, she felt him still, then ask, "Really?"

"Really." Normally, she liked her space, but the idea that she'd be able to know he was there, even in sleep, was appealing.

She felt him scoot closer again, body lining up behind hers and arm wrapping lightly around her waist. His hand came to rest on her stomach and she felt his breath on her neck as he murmured, "Thank you, Chloe."

"I'm glad you're here." Her response was thick and she felt tears on her cheeks.

Jack sensed something and, in a concerned tone, asked, "Chloe, what's…."

"Nothing," she said quickly. They needed sleep, not a sob session airing the relief and happiness and millions of other emotions that seemed to be tumbling around in her head. "Just the damn hormones."

"Hormones?" From his tone, Jack immediately knew what she hadn't said.

Damn, she hadn't wanted to say anything yet. On the plus side, she could now probably blame evil pregnancy hormones for a lot of things throughout the course of her pregnancy. That could come in handy.

"Yeah," she mumbled, her own hand joining his on her stomach. "Found out this morning."

"A little Chloe," Jack mused, then actually rubbed her tummy gently. "Congratulations…or…."

"Yeah," she said with a sigh. "I mean, timing and situation, not exactly ideal, but a baby, my baby…a little nervous, but happy, yeah."

Jack was quiet for a moment before he questioned, "The father?"

Morris had made it clear things were over between them and if he was drinking again, she didn't want him around a baby. "He doesn't know."

Another quiet pause. "You want me to…talk to him?"

"No," Chloe interlaced their fingers again. "I don't want him to know."

"Oh," he stilled behind her, then very seriously asked, "Want me to kick his ass?"

She chuckled and actually leaned back into him. "No, I want you to go to sleep."

"Okay."

Chloe fell asleep to the feel of breath on her neck and the soothing sensation of having her stomach rubbed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Chloe awoke, her brain was screaming two messages, very loud and very clear. The first was: Bathroom! Now! And the second: Coffee!

Blinking, she tried to roll out of bed, but found she couldn't. It took her sleep addled mind a moment to work out that in addition to the arm he had wrapped around her, Jack had thrown his leg over hers as they slept. If she hadn't had to go so badly, she might have taken a moment to enjoy the comfortable, warm sensation that realization brought.

Gently, she rolled Jack off of her and smiled when he tugged the blankets back up over his head, making a funny little snuffling noise.

After finishing her business, she made her way out into the kitchen in search of much needed caffeine. Carefully measuring out the water and coffee, she turned on the percolator. As she was putting the bag of coffee back into it's jar, she had a grim thought.

Was coffee bad for pregnant women?

She was fairly sure she'd heard something about limiting caffeine intake during pregnancy. God damn it. Coffee was one of her main food groups.

Still scowling into the open cabinet, she was startled when someone knocked on her door. Not wanting to wake Jack, she hurried to the door and looked out through the peep hole.

What the hell? She thought as she pulled the door open, staring at the motley crew gathered on her doorstep. If her neighbors were looking out their windows, they'd probably be wondering what was going on. The only visitor she ever really had was Morris, and he'd stopped coming when they'd broken up.

So the arrival of Bill Buchanan, Nadia Yasir, with a heavily bandaged Mike Doyle leaning on her shoulder, and Marilyn and Josh Bauer came as a bit of a shock.

"Mr. Buchanan?" she asked, confused and suddenly aware that she was standing there in cloud print pajama pants and a tank top. "What's going on?"

Buchanan offered her a brief smile. "I'm sorry to bother you, Chloe…" he began, but was interrupted by Marilyn.

"They said you might be able to help find Jack," Marilyn said without preamble.

"No ones heard from him since he jumped in the water," Josh added. "We're kinda worried."

"We know." From Nadia's tone, Chloe could surmise that Marilyn and Josh had been rather vocal in their requests and worries. And Chloe had heard Marilyn scream often enough to know she could get grating.

"He's fine," Chloe began, but she too was interrupted.

"God, that's all you people say!" Marilyn said sharply. "How can you know that? After all that happened, then he jump into the ocean… he could be hurt or dead on a beach somewhere!"

Chloe grimaced, noting similar expressions on Bill and Nadia's faces, while Doyle seemed to be wishing the booby trapped component had fried his ears instead of his eyes.

"Actually," Chloe drawled, "I know because he's here. Sleeping."

"What?!"

"Why didn't you call in?"

"Is he all right?"

"You weren't answering your phones…."

"Shhhh!" Chloe hissed at all of them, torn between inviting them in or stepping out. "I think we should let Jack sleep…and my cell phone died. Sorry"

Josh seemed relieved to discover his uncle was not, in fact, dead on a beach somewhere, while Doyle just looked ready to fall over. Nadia seemed torn between worrying over him and giving Chloe a raised brow look. Bill seemed both worried and relieved, as did Marilyn, but while Bill simply nodded, she said, "Is he okay? Should I check on him? See if he needs anything…."

"I think sleep is what he really needs," Chloe repeated, edging forwards in order to close the door a bit more. She didn't want to give Marilyn a clear path to try to bolt in. The woman was looking put out, and Chloe was certain Marilyn was used to getting her own way, at least from people who were not her greedy, jealous husband or his father.

Marilyn's eyes ticked from the closing door to Chloe's face. "Don't you think he'd be better recovering with family?"

That kind of stung. Sure, Jack wasn't technically her family, but he was her friend. One of her closest friends. In their line of work, when you found someone you trusted and worked well with, the bonds you forged tended to be extremely strong and theirs was deeper than most.

"No," Chloe said flatly. "I'll tell Jack you were here and asking after him, but he came here and he can stay as long as he wants."

Nadia actually looked a bit gleeful at the sight of someone standing up to Marilyn, who was visibly pissed.

Intervening, Bill said, "All right, Chloe, that's fine. Just charge your phone, so we can get in touch if we need to. When Jack's feeling up to it, have him call in and of course, give…Mrs. Bauer a call. A lot of people are concerned about him."

"Tell Jack I'm sorry about the whole psycho father thing," Doyle piped up, speaking for the first time since they had arrived.

His blunt comment made Josh flinch, Marilyn glare, Bill sigh and Nadia hiss, "A little tact would be nice."

"Not really my thing."

At least that prompted a smile from Josh, who said, "Can you tell Uncle Jack I'm glad he's okay?"

While the boy was annoying in that typical, useless teen-ager way, he didn't seem like a bad kid. "I will," Chloe assured him with a small, tight smile.

As Bill and Nadia wrangled Marilyn, leading her back towards the SUV they had come in, Josh gave Chloe a smile in return before helping Doyle along.

No, not a bad kid and she did feel sorry for him, what with the aforementioned psycho evil grandpa and dead evil dad. Hopefully, the kid had inherited the same Bauer genes as Jack…or at least similar enough to cancel out the crazy evil. The world wasn't ready for two Jack Bauer's running around.

Ducking back into the house, Chloe shut the door with a sigh. Dealing with all of that before her first cup of coffee was not her idea of a nice way to start the day.

"Thank you."

Jack startled her as he appeared from the hall that led to the bedroom. She wondered how much he had heard.

"I thought you were still asleep," she said, glancing back at the door. "I could call…"

"No, no, that's okay," he said hurriedly and Chloe got the impression that he simply wasn't ready to deal with…well, anyone really.

Which was totally understandable. Once again, Jack had done the impossible, saved the day, this time while suffering from the effects of long term torture and abuse. The guy needed some time without people making demands of him and even those who meant well, family, friends, co-workers…Frankly, they could be way more taxing than strangers.

"Want some coffee?" She offered, wandering back to the kitchen. "I put it on, but I couldn't remember if I'm not supposed to have caffeine…with the baby."

Jack followed her, rubbing a hand through his short blond hair, making tufts of it stand up on end. "I think too much is bad…but Kim was born before all the no caffeine stuff and Teri drank a lot of coffee…"

Yeah, avoid caffeine. "Here," she handed him a mug. "I'll stick to juice."

He nodded, added some sugar to the coffee and took a sip. His eyes closed and he sighed happily. "That's good," he said, then opened his eyes to meet her grin. He shrugged. "It's been a long time."

She couldn't imagine going years without coffee. Hell, she knew she'd be white knuckling it to last till the end of her pregnancy. "So, we can have eggs or oatmeal for breakfast, but I should warn you, my culinary skills are…somewhat lacking."

Pulling his nose out of the coffee, Jack offered, "I used to be able to fry an egg…but I'm out of practice. I'm sure we'll be able to manage."

Giving him a nod, Chloe mentally grimaced. They'd manage. Yeah, maybe she'd be more optimistic if she, like Jack, was unaware of what she referred to as the Ham Incident of '03. Of course, since she'd threatened Chase with digital death, he'd never brought it up and she wasn't about to.

Like he said, they'd manage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Though it was clear neither of them was particularly gifted in the kitchen, their pooled skills had produced an edible breakfast of fried eggs, toast, yogurt and juice. Jack had also downed about a half gallon of milk, another thing he hadn't had in years. His body was probably screaming for calcium and any number of other vitamins and minerals.

She'd really have to talk to him about allowing a doctor to take a look at him, run some blood work and such. But, for now she'd have to content herself with feeding him.

After breakfast, they made their way into the living room and flipped on the TV. Of course, the news was still running constantly. A freakin nuke had gone off in LA. That would be making headlines for a while.

The talking head on the TV was making noises about the wind blowing the fallout around and freaking out over rain.

An hour or so of that gloom, Jack stood up. "I'm going to sit outside for a while," he said, before wandering off to get dressed.

That made sense. Jack seemed to enjoy the outdoors. He had been a surfer and his personnel file noted he enjoyed hiking and camping. She wondered if he'd gotten much, if any, fresh air while imprisoned. He was a bit paler than usual, but his skin had a natural, permanent light tan, unlike her own lily white skin.

He emerged a short time later, in jeans, a long sleeved T-shirt, loose and a bit snug, respectively. He moved quietly toward the back door , glancing back at her before he slipped out.

After ten minutes, she decided she'd waited long enough and hurried off to dress. It wasn't that she thought Jack might take off…actually, she was pretty sure he wouldn't, but she just wasn't ready to believe he was really back unless she could see him. Not having to go to work, jeans and a T-shirt were a quick and serviceable option.

She stepped out onto the tiny back porch and glanced at the bench, finding it empty. Jack had instead chosen to sit on the short flight of stairs and was either staring off into the distance or watching Mrs. Nomberto's chase each other in circles.

The air was still and the neighborhood quiet, but for the occasional shouts of the children. Mrs. Nomberto and a few other adults were gathered on her porch, visibly worried, even from a distance.

With a sigh, Chloe took a seat on the top step beside Jack and stretched out her legs, bare toes cool where they touched the lower stair. It was an odd juxtaposition, her small, pink painted toes (sue her, she liked toenail polish) resting near his heavy, black boots.

"They're scared," Jack said finally, causing Chloe to follow his gaze.

At first glance, she'd dismissed the children as playing, completely unaware of the aura of tragedy and stress that still hung in the air. They were running, playing, shouting, but their little faces were tense. The oldest boy kept shooting his grandmother concerned looks and the younger two never strayed too far from him.

Chloe sighed. "I guess a mushroom cloud is tough to miss, even if you're a kid," she said, then pressed a hand to her belly. "Oh God, my baby is gonna be born in a world where a nuclear bomb has been detonated in our city. It doesn't seem right."

"None of it's right," Jack murmured, placing a hand on her back and rubbing small circles. "And we'll deal, like we always do."

Somewhat intrigued by his use of 'we' in that sentence, Chloe nodded, then gave a half hearted wave when Mrs. Nomberto raised a hand in greeting. To her surprise, the older woman indicated they should come over. "What the heck?" Chloe muttered. "She barely knows me."

As they rose, Jack said, "People tend to band together in the wake of disasters, Chloe. It's instinct. Safety in numbers."

"Mmmpf. I don't think I have that instinct."

"Me neither," Jack chuckled as they approached the cluster of Chloe's neighbors. In addition to Mrs. Nomberto, there were three couples and one young blond man with two small children strapped to him in baby carriers. It was clear that the older woman was holding court and she smiled at Chloe.

"How are you holding up,…Chloe, isn't it?" Mrs. Nomberto said kindly.

Chloe returned the expression a bit hesitantly. "Fine, ma'am, and yourself?"

"Oh, as well as anyone I suppose," she replied, then motioned to the others. "Have you met…No? All right, this is Charles and Jane Richards, Lee and Sofia Kennedy, Ryan and Ilsa Shaw and Danny Lombardi. Everyone, this is Chloe O'Brien and…I'm sorry, dear, I don't know you."

Chloe hid a smile as Jack replied. "Jack Bauer, ma'am."

The older woman nodded and smiled. "Polite. Good. I'm Eileen Nomberto."

Greetings and other pleasantries were exchanged and Jane Richards asked, "Have you heard anything about the radiation. The news mentioned rain in the forecast and I'm a bit worried."

"We're all worried, Jane," Lee Kennedy offered comfortingly, his cultured, British accent a bit of a surprise. "I'm sure the authorities are doing everything they can."

"They can't control the weather," Ilsa Shaw said sadly. "It's gonna be like uber-acid rain."

On that cherry note, Chloe felt the need to speak up. "Actually, this are has been upwind of the cloud the whole time and the current weather maps predict the majority of the radiation will be out to sea before the rain starts."

Jack picked up the train of her thoughts. Calm and reassure the civilians. "Avoiding being caught in the rain is a good idea, but it should drop the residual radiation out of the atmosphere. But with the majority over the water, populated areas outside the initial blast radius shouldn't become hot zones. And fortunately, marine life has proven pretty resistant to the effects of fallout."

There was quiet, until Danny said, "You guys science teachers or something?"

Jack and Chloe exchanged a look. CTU agents weren't prohibited from telling people the truth about their occupations, only from sharing classified information. It was their choice if they told people what they did or lied. And, honestly, Jack wasn't technically a CTU employee at the moment.

With a shrug, Jack indicated he didn't care, so Chloe said, "Uh, no. We work for…a federal agency."

There was a moment of silence, then an immediate barrage of questions. Chloe stepped back, even as the playing children approached, attention captured but the adults freaking out.

It was Jack who barked, "Stop! Look, we can't go into details. What we do is classified. All I can say is, yes, the people responsible for these attacks are either dead or in custody, as are any potential weapons."

"And, like we said, as far as radiation goes, here is as safe as anywhere," Chloe finished, secretly pleased that Jack had spoken up. He had been so quiet since arriving at her house. Short, soft sentences, and while she enjoyed the timber of his voice (as would any heterosexual woman…), she was used to Action Jack, loud, confidant and in control.

Again, there was silence. Really, this was why neither she or Jack was the person picked to do PR. They kinda sucked at interacting with people. Chloe was a computer person and Jack….well, the powers that be tended to frown upon using extreme intimidation as a way to communicate with the public.

As her neighbors stared at them in shock, she considered her last thought and realized that was probably one of the reasons neither of them had many friends outside their professional circles. Or, you know, people who didn't think they were completely insane.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Charles Richards gave them both a considering look and asked, "What agency did you say you were with?

Since, technically, he wasn't with any particular agency, Jack shrugged while Chloe replied, "CTU."

A whistle of admiration came from Danny, who peered at them from behind wire frame glasses. "My wife's LAPD and she says you guys are bad ass! Completely freakin nuts, but bad ass!"

"Danny, Emily's nuts," Sofia Kennedy, a striking brunette with a Columbian accent chided lightly. "Not to speak badly of her, but she's out there, you said, helping evacuate the area around Valencia. Getting people to hospital. Very dangerous."

The young man gave his fussing kids a gentle bounce as he replied, "It's her job. Sure, I'm scared as hell for her, but I gotta respect what she does."

"They'll try to rotate teams going into exposed areas and everyone will be given Potassium Iodide pills. They help," Jack offered the younger man, eyes drifting off to the side. "Region 9 RERT will be running things, local LEO's providing support and helping evac civilians to hospitals. Decon showers in and out of hot…"

A car backfired and Jack trailed off, body tensing and eyes narrowing, darting sharply from side to side.

"Jack!" Chloe said his name sharply to snap him out of whatever the hell sort of fugue that was. He had been rambling about the EPA's Radiological Emergency Response Team's general practices. Not that they were classified or anything and, though she didn't like the odd, detached tone he was using, she liked this reaction to the backfire even less. She figured the only reason Jack was still more or less functional was that he was a big believer in gathering up all the pain, darkness and trauma in his life and bottling it up. Probably not the best thing for his long term mental health, but it worked for now.

He jerked, then blinked at her. By this point, Chloe was pretty sure her neighbors probably thought they were more than a little crazy and were wondering if theses were really the people who were tasked with protecting them from terrorists. "Sorry," he murmured, crossing his arms and visibly pulling himself back together.

"Anyway," Ryan Shaw said, politely ignoring Jack's little…issue. "We were just talking earlier about when we thought most businesses would be opening again and the schools and day cares."

"I told you, dear," Mrs. Nomberto said, "I can watch your little one if you need me to. Anthony and Marie are on call at the hospital, so I've got the grandkids."

"Businesses should be open in the next couple of days….schools probably not till next week," Chloe said, knowing disaster response plans of most corporations wouldn't allow for too many days shut down. The economy depended on businesses being operational to survive. Schools were a bit more lenient, as the children's safety was priority.

Discussion immediately commenced among the Richards and Shaws, who had children, and Lee, who was a middle school teacher. Mrs. Nomberto offered occasional advice while Sofia, Chloe and Jack observed and Danny continued trying to quiet two cranky kids. With all the tension and fear, everyone was wrapped up in their own troubled minds.

So Chloe was surprised when Jack suddenly asked, "Colic?"

Danny blinked, then said, "Yeah, the doc says they should calm down within the next month."

Smiling slightly, Jack replied, "I don't think my daughter stopped screaming till she hit five months. Want a hand?"

"Thanks," Danny said, then managed some complex maneuver that allowed him to scoop one baby out of the carrier while still juggling the other.

Jack took the baby and settled her into an odd hold, stomach-down along his forearm, cheek in the palm of his hand. Gently, he patted the baby's lower back in a smooth, circular motion and hummed. After several squirmy moments, the baby quieted and stopped fussing. Chloe moved a step closer, a little worried that he would zone out while holding the kid, but having something to do seemed to ground him.

Danny stared. "See, when I do that they just cry more."

Nodding, Jack said, "You'll get the hang of it…the day before the colic stops."

With a raised brow, Chloe considered this. On one hand, her baby could be colicky like these two. On the other, Jack seemed to have some, previously unknown to her, skills with tiny humans. For some reason, namely Kim, she had assumed he and Teri had been fans of the TV-as-a-babysitter method of child rearing.

This was interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting in Chloe's kitchen, Jack looked down at the sandwich on his plate. He knew Chloe wanted him to eat, decreeing it lunchtime as soon as they managed to get away from her neighbors, but for some reason, all he could do was stare.

White bread. Tuna fish. Baby carrots and celery sticks. Dressing. A small pile of potato chips. A big glass of milk sitting beside the plate.

It looked good. Wholesome. Like the lunches Maria, his family's cook, had put in brown paper bags and sent to school with him when he was little.

As Chloe settled herself onto the chair beside him, she gave him a funny look and asked, "I thought you said you like tuna."

He did and he had enjoyed watching her prepare it. A domestic goddess, Chloe was not, but she showed a broad and varied vocabulary of creative curse words. Jack could respect that. Maybe later he could offer up a few choice phrases in Russian, German and Spanish…and Chinese. He was darn sure he'd picked up some interesting words over the past eighteen months.

"I do," he replied, picking up half the sandwich and taking a bite. It was almost easier to cope when there was a crisis, something to focus on so he didn't get lost in his own head, with the memories and demons that haunted him. He knew he wasn't processing things quite right, letting his attention be caught by random, odd things, retreating inward. While it wasn't a happy place, it was sometimes nicer than what the Chinese had done to him.

Now, he didn't have to do that and the world around him was far nicer than what he faced when he turned inward. But it wasn't the easiest habit to break. Normal social interactions hadn't been his strong suit for a long while, but now, well, he had looked to Chloe for cues on how to interact with her neighbors and she wasn't exactly known for being a people person. It was far simpler, far better to be around Chloe, who understood him…even when the quiet allowed him to think too much.

The tuna tasted wonderful, fresh, full fat mayonnaise, little bits of chopped up onion and celery mixed in it. Maybe he'd stuff some chips in the other half. The crunch would provide a contrast to the rest of the smooth, soft sandwich. Most of what he'd been fed during the course of his incarceration had been a sort of unidentifiable, nasty paste. He was pretty sure he'd rather lick the inside of Chloe's stove than eat anymore of that crap.

They only fed him cause it was a lot more fun to torture someone who had some substance, as opposed to someone wasting away from starvation. At one point, during a very rough patch, he'd refused to eat all together, an action which prompted them to shove a feeding tube down his throat, none too gently.

Every day they found new ways to make him hurt. All the ways he thought possible and then some. He was sliced, carved and torn. Beaten, burned, violated. They threatened to cut off extremities, scoop out his eyes, whispering words of horror in his ears, often while dripping acids onto his flesh, the smell of bubbling skin filling the room. All the training, the conditioning and resistance his life had seen fit to teach him was strained beyond measure.

He was not the only one there, not by far, just the one there the longest. They made him watch as they tortured others, saw the suffering on their faces, heard them screaming out their agony, howling and pleading for mercy. Even in his cell there was the constant background noise of wailing and suffering. It made his skin crawl the day he got here and the sensation never eased.

The smell of burnt, rotting flesh was a constant there. Sometimes he thinks the smell is worse than the other, physical tortures. Every breath has the smell of sulfur and death and stinking, charred flesh. And those poor people being burned still moaned and begged for forgiveness, salvation.

They got none. Jack had no illusions about the things he had done over the course of his career. He had hurt people, torture them, but it was not something he relished. The men there, he couldn't understand how they derived pleasure from doing what they did. Jack had always wished he lived in a world where his particular brand of interrogation was unnecessary, but he was sure his captors did not feel the same.

Every day they tried to break him just a little more. Not all at once; that would have been a kindness and kindness didn't exist there. No, they dragged it out. Because they knew they all the time in the world, because Jack going anywhere, there is absolutely no escape, because….

"Jack!"

A hand on his arm made him pull away, harder than he would have if he had been aware that he was unbound. He flailed, heard a small crashing noise and suddenly had the sensation of falling, which was explained when he hit the floor, hard, on his side. He curled reflexively, but looked around, searching for an escape.

Soft beige walls. Pale woodwork. Overturned stool on the floor. Milk dripping off of the counter top. Small, bare feet approaching, denim clad legs bending…Something didn't fit….

"Jack!"

He knew that voice. Chloe. Chloe was in LA, not China…so help him, if those bastards had managed to get their hands on her, sick or not, he was going to do some damage. Ripping off their arms and shoving them so far up their that asses they could taste the crap under their fingernails sort of damage. Jack did not like when people messed with his friends.

"It's okay, it's okay. You're safe."

At once, things came into focus. He wasn't in a cell or anywhere unpleasant, he was on the floor in Chloe's kitchen. She was on her knees beside him, face worried, hands hovering, unsure if touching him again would send him scrambling away.

He realized he was shaking and, as his breathing steadied, he raised his eyes to meet hers. With a breath, he reached out for her hand, pausing to unclench his fist. He saw her grimace at the bloody crescents his ragged nails had gouged in his palms, but she grasped his fingers gently.

Her hand was blessedly warm against his cool skin and provided an anchor to pull him back into the moment and out of the darkness. "Chloe," he rasped, throat still tight with slowly ebbing panic. "Chloe, I…."

"Don't worry about it," she replied softly, peering down at him for a moment before scooting awkwardly towards him without releasing his hand. Settling against the wall, she pillowed his head in he lap and, with her free hand, ran short, keyboard friendly nails through his hair.

He closed his eyes, soothed by the contact and the tingles on his scalp. It was silly, but he'd always liked having his head rubbed or scratched. It could be either sexy or soothing (this was the latter) and he sighed as he relaxed against her.

The house was quiet, a lone fan stirring the air. The room was lit only by light filtering in from outside, as rolling brown outs were still frequent and they were sitting in the shadow of the kitchen island. He knew that, even if she could see the tears leaking from his eyes to drop onto the thigh of her jeans, she wouldn't begrudge him the release, just as she had understood his breakdown.

In the quiet, lying on the cool kitchen floor, Chloe nearby, he felt safe. He felt home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She'd been waiting for a breakdown of some kind since she'd seen Jack striding into the CTU, driven by adrenaline and anger and sheer force of will. Chloe fully expected this wouldn't be his only moment of distress before he started to get better, but it was still painful to witness. She couldn't even imagine what was going on in his head, but, whatever it was, she'd be there to try to help him get through it.

As she sat there, butt going to sleep on the hard wood floor and leg slowly cooling as the tears streaming from Jack's eyes made a damp spot under his cheek, she just hoped she'd know what to do. Trying to take Jack's mind off of whatever horror had sent him reeling, Chloe attempted to make non-threatening small talk. Not a simple task, considering she generally sucked at any kind of pointless chatter, but she was willing to try.

First, there was paint. She had been contemplating painting the walls, but had never gotten around to actually doing it. On one particularly motivated Saturday, she had picked up a bunch of sample chips at the local Lowes. So far, she found herself leaning towards a pallet of pale blues and soft greens, something markedly different from CTU's gray and glass color scheme.

By the time she worked her way through most non-sensical topics and on to baby names, he'd stopped trembling and occasionally nodded as she mused. Until the CTU doctor had told her she was pregnant, she'd never really given any serious thought to having children and thus had never given baby names much thought. It seemed like some women felt the urge to carefully plan and select such things, pretty much from the onset of puberty. Chloe was not one of them. Not at all. And now she only had like eight months to think about it or else the poor kid would be saddled with whatever God awful name her epidural addled brain though sounded like fun.

Honestly, who let exhausted, drugged new mothers choose their baby's names moments after the trauma of pushing something the size of a watermelon out a orifice the size of a tennis ball. You'd think some genius would have heard a few of the more insane choices and had the epiphany that perhaps waiting till mommy wasn't quite so stoned would be a bright idea.

"Teri tried to kill me with her IV pole," Jack murmured during one of the lulls in her ramble. "I don't think anything that came out of her mouth during the hours surrounding Kim's birth was anything but a curse."

Chloe giggled and could feel his smile against her leg. Maybe she wasn't a trained psychologist, but they seemed to be doing okay, all things considered. Considering Jack shared her disdain for shrinks, they were probably doing better together than any shrink could have hoped for.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

After Jack's little time out on the kitchen floor, they cleaned up the spilled milk and finished the rest of their lunches. It was a quiet affair, but Chloe thought that was to be expected. Whatever Jack had running through his head looked like it had taken a lot out of him.

Later, they watched Casino Royale, a seemingly odd choice for entertainment considering what they did professionally, but it was James Bond. And, in Chloe's opinion, Daniel Craig really rocked as the super spy. Hot, blue eyed blond who could take a beating like no other…yeah, that didn't remind her of anyone. And she most certainly hadn't nearly broken down in hysterics in a theater when Morris had taken her to see the movie and that interrogation scene came on. Not that she was generally squeamish about such things, but her mind had immediately reminded her that Jack was still somewhere in a Chinese prison and…well, maybe she did throw up a little bit.

It wasn't until they were nearly at that scene that she cringed, realizing it might not go over well with Jack, but he didn't seem particularly perturbed. He simply flinched, pressed his thighs together in sympathetic pain and said, "Yeah, that hurts."

Before she could censor herself, Chloe sputtered, "I imagine so, and I don't even have those bits."

When she realized what she had said, she flushed and glanced sideways at Jack, who was staring at her, brows raised in obvious amusement. Offering a weak shrug, she smiled when he started to snicker. "Well, I don't," she mumbled, but laughed a bit herself.

"I know," he replied, then reddened a bit himself and returned his focus to the movie.

The rest of the afternoon passed peacefully as did the co-operative effort of preparing pasta and meat sauce for dinner. In deference to Jack's palate, Chloe kept the sauce bland as possible, frying onions with the meat then dumping a couple cans of tomato soup over the pile of meat. Just before taking it off the burner, she melted some cheese in for flavor.

Jack seemed to like it, so she didn't feel bad for the blandness. Over the meal, the discussed plans for the next day. Chloe thought that if she kept Jack's mind busy, he wouldn't slip back into his head. Between the two of them, they decided to check in with CTU and then Jack would call Kim.

Bed time was a simple affair again, just showers, then Jack followed Chloe into her room and curled up around her again. It was about Jack's comfort and sense of safety and Chloe could admit she liked knowing he was there.

So, for the second night in a row, she drifted off to sleep with Jack wrapped around her.

____________________________________________________________________________________

That night, Jack couldn't escape the dreams.

Two pairs of hands held his arms, forcing him to the centre of the room where they threw him to the ground. His hands, shackled behind his back, were unable to break his fall, so he fell straight down, whacking his head. Something hard and heavy made contact with his side… A bone fractured, he knew the feeling well. A second blow caught him across the back of the knees and a bright burst of pain filled his mind… He struggled to get up, but he was disorientated and the movements were weak. He was hit again, in the stomach, on the back of the head. Again. And again. And again.

When finally the beating ended he lay unmoving, blood dripping into his eyes from a gash that crossed his forehead. A man stepped into his field of vision, small, vicious smile on his face.

He never spoke, just circled menacingly, then gestured to two minions. They pulled Jack to his feet, wrenching his arms up, nearly popping the shoulders from their sockets as they hooked the shackles to a chain suspended from the ceiling. The position was painful.

Naked, chained to the ceiling. blood flowing in streams from deep cuts down his arms. His feet could just reach the floor. It hurt to breathe, at least one rib was definitely broken. Dizzy from the blow to his head, he knew one eye was swelling shut…the blood dripping into it didn't help.

Still, he tried to stare down the man circling him, even when he brandished a red hot metal rod, taunting Jack before pressing it into the flesh over his right scapula. Jack could feel the skin crack and blacken, the impossible heat eating through his flesh, seemingly burning into his bones.

His eyes were rolling back in their sockets and his back was arched. He trashed, felt one shoulder pop out of place, but the stab of pain wasn't nearly sharp enough to distract him. He wanted to scream….

He woke with a jerk, but was eased back into reality by his surroundings. Soft pillows under his cheek, warm blankets pulled up over his shoulders His face was buried against a mass of soft, sweet smelling hair and he was wrapped around a familiar, warm, feminine body.

The house was silent, but for the gentle whir of a small fan. Moonlight streamed in through the open curtains, the heavy kind that when closed could block out the mid day sun. He was glad she'd left them open. Warmth and light were appealing after spending such a long time surrounded by cold and darkness.

In his arms, Chloe shifted, settling back more fully against him. Jack gave her a gentle squeeze. Despite the horrible dreams and lingering aches and pains that permeated his entire body, it had been a long time since he'd felt the sense of peace he did in that moment.

Before China, he'd been on the run, literally. Before that, he'd been in D.C., pretending to be happy working for the D.O.D., in a relationship with a woman who he had loved, but who insisted they keep their affair secret. And of course, going back further, there was his heroine addiction which came after a self destructive bout that followed his wife's murder….

Right before her death, he ad Teri had been happy. It seemed like that was several lifetimes ago. Maybe it was, in a way.

Chloe's breathing, soft and steady, was soothing and she made a content little noise when he laid a hand on her belly. She still hadn't told him who the father was, but from what she said, he assumed she did not want the man around. His limited knowledge of Chloe's social life was years out of date and consisted solely of her ex-husband Morris, not a terrible guy but not her equal, and Spencer Wolf, a dumb ass weasel who unwittingly aided a corrupt regime that nearly unleashed bio-weapons on the US.

No, Jack mused, neither he nor Chloe had the best track record when it came to relationships. Though, his was markedly worse, as hers did not include any murdering, sociopath traitors like Nina.

As she studied the pale skin of Chloe's shoulder, he smiled as he took note of the small, inked infinity symbol. Somehow, he'd never pictured her as the type to have body art. He, with his numerous tattoos, was a bit of an oddity in a federal agency, even the law enforcement branches.

In his opinion, the choice of the symbol suited her. To him, Chloe was a constant, his loyal ally, his friend and partner. The one person he knew he could trust implicitly and without question and who returned the sentiment with equal fervor.

Like now. Jack didn't even think his own daughter would have taken him in so quickly…or at all. Chloe hadn't even given it a second thought and she had made it clear that he was welcome to stay indefinitely and frankly, he had no real desire to leave. No plans, no…well, nothing.

Chloe wanted him around, just him, wasn't asking anything from him. It was different, nice. It gave him a sense of hope and even made him want to do more than just keep existing. When he got his head together again, he thought he could return the favor, help with the baby or whatever.

The late hour must have been making him a little loopy, he decided, as he usually wasn't so sentimental. Closing his eyes, he leaned his brow into the curve of her neck and his fingers curled reflexively against her stomach.

"GotosleepJack," Chloe murmured, stirring but never waking fully. Seconds later she settled back down and he soon followed, lulled to sleep by the steady sound of her breathing and the beat of her heart.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Chloe woke with far less urgency than she had the day before, as she'd been asleep for far less than 16 hours. Bright sunlight streamed in through the window, warming the room. It would be air conditioner weather soon.

Hopefully, the power company would get the energy grid stabilized before than. No, forget that. Once Lowes opened again, she was going over there and buying a giant generator. It was only sensible to plan ahead.

She'd ask Jack later about other things he'd recommend. Between the two of them, they probably possessed a nearly insane amount of knowledge of disaster preparedness…though honestly, she'd always just assumed she'd be in the office if anything major ever happened. Now she had to think about the little person who would be a part of her life in less than nine months.

Yeah. She was definitely going to have to keep an eye on her paranoia, though she felt she was justified in it. Hello! Nuke in Valencia! Not exactly national security's proudest moment.

As she mulled things over, Jack showed no signs of waking. Again, he was half draped over her, arm slung around her, hand on her abdomen. Their legs were tangled together and when she curled her toes, they brushed his foot, making the limb jerk reflexively then settle back against her.

He wasn't a bad sleeping companion. True, he threw off a lot of body heat, but that wasn't so bad, as her feet tended to morph into blocks of ice during the night. And despite his apparent affection for cuddling, Jack didn't seem to be trying to roll over her. More than once, she had woken up when Morris had rolled on top of her while asleep. It was never pleasant to be squished awake.

She'd never really shared a be like this…platonically. When she'd been married, of course there'd been nights when she'd just slept beside her ex, but that was different.

People had often questioned her relationship with Jack, wondered why she did all the things she did for him, believed in him enough to risk prison when she'd go along with one of his off book missions. She knew some people assumed she was in love with him and maybe she was a little, but that wasn't relevant.

Trust. Loyalty. A belief in each others abilities. A shared dedication to a job that tended to put people in early graves. Some saw their relationship as one sided and Chloe had never deigned to express her reasons for following Jack. Their relationship was theirs. It was weird and a little awkward to outsiders, but it suited them just fine.

Love came in many forms, Chloe mused, staring at Jack's scarred hand where it peeked out from under the pillow in front of her. Theirs was friendship and trust based, forged in the face of danger and death. Each had enough armor built up around them that they hadn't even noticed when they became fused. It just happened and somewhere along the way it had become okay, acceptable to lower those defenses, be laid bare and vulnerable…but only to each other.

Yeah, not exactly an uncomplicated relationship.

Gently, she touched his hand, tracing the raised scarring and down over his fingers, not overly long, but strong with rough knuckles. Fingers twitching, his arm moved, sliding forwards, then up to wrap around her in a sleepy embrace.

With a small smile, Chloe decided she could sleep in for a while longer and pressed a quick kiss to his skin before settling her cheek against his hand and closing her eyes.

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"Hello?"

Hearing his daughter's voice, even filtered over a phone line from where she was living in Pasadena, made Jack's breath catch in his throat. The day he'd come out of hiding, she'd been so angry that he'd allowed her to think him dead and though, by the time she left CTU she no longer seemed to hate him, their relationship was strained.

And that was before he disappeared into the depths of a Chinese prison for nearly 2 years.

He had thought himself prepared for this call, but he was suddenly frozen with fear, dreading her rejection.

"Hello?"

From her position beside him, Chloe shot Jack a concerned look as he again opened and closed his mouth silently. Finally, she leaned forward. "Kim, this is…."

"Chloe!" There was a mix of surprise, hope and fear in Kim's voice. "Oh my God, is it Dad? Did you find him? Is he okay?"

Shooting Chloe a relieved look, Jack let out a sigh as she continued, "Your dad's sitting right here beside me."

"Hey Kim." Jack was glad he finally found his voice, hoarse though it was.

There was a moment of silence, then Kim breathed, "Dad…Dad, oh my God! Are you all right? What…How…When…Oh, you had something to do with stopping the terrorist attacks didn't you?"

What else could he say? "Yeah and I'm okay, Kim…Everything's a little complicated, but I'm here and I'm not gonna disappear again…."

"Are you at CTU?" Kim asked. "The highways are pretty nuts, between people leaving the city and emergency crews, but I can try to get down there…."

"I'm staying at Chloe's," Jack said quickly. Though he was eager to see his daughter, he didn't want her out dealing with all the craziness on the roads. "I think maybe you should wait a few days before trying to head down here."

"Do you have a web cam?" Chloe asked, picking up her laptop. It sounded like a brilliant idea to Jack, who wanted to see Kim, but not at the expense of her safety.

"We do," Kim replied with a huff, "but our Internet's been down since the blast. I tried accessing the IPS directly, but got stonewalled. I thought the net was supposed to be able to withstand a nuclear attack?"

"All the processors have probably been diverted to emergency and military channels," Chloe said, hands poised on her keyboard. "I have to call in to CTU in a bit. I'll try to set something up. Sorry."

"Not your fault, Chloe," Jack said with a soft smile. He was thrilled that Kim seemed to have, at least for the moment, abandoned her animosity towards him. It was a relief. Especially in light of the less than pleasant topic of conversation he had to bring up.

Knowing Chloe had set the call up on a secure line, Jack began, "Kim…I have to tell you something about today's…events…."

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The rest of Jack's conversation with Kim went better than he had expected. Apparently, Kim had been of the opinion that, in recent years, Graem was a little shady and she'd thought her grandfather was weird for even longer. After Jack's 'death' a few years earlier, Phillip had brought up the subject of his legacy to her, but she had no interest in being his heir and had promptly cut off ties to the family, mostly out of her anger, but also, she claimed, cause Phillip had sounded a little too invested in having her involved with the family business.

After the 'Grandpa and Uncle Graem were evil' chat, the rest of their talk was nice. Shortly after Jack was snatched by the Chinese, Kim had ditched Barry, the creepy shrink boyfriend, and the new guy, Steven, sounded far preferable. He was her age, a teacher and completely lacking the pervy condescension that Barry had oozed.

All in all, Chloe thought the conversation seemed to go well. Her only hope was that their call in to CTU was similarly without incident.

Calling Nadia directly seemed to be the best course of action, as they weren't sure who was officially in command at the CTU. In a more than slightly disgruntled tone, Nadia informed them that Ben Graham, the Section Chief sent down by Division, was still running the show.

Poorly, in her opinion.

Apparently, CTU's location made it a good staging point for rescue and recovery operations, as well as a centralized command post for all the agencies and military branches involved. In fact, Nadia said the only reason Graham wasn't butting in on their conversation was that he was busy getting reamed by a pissed off Marine, with an equally angry LAPD captain, a FBI SAIC and an EPA director waiting for their shot.

She sounded more than a little gleeful at that particular turn of events.

"What are they doing to my servers?" Chloe asked, knowing the Division lackeys were poking around in the CTU's OS and not liking that idea one bit. That system was her technological baby, God damn it!

"Well, they're still trying to understand the system you and…Milo set up, but they're not having much luck. The techies are starting to whine about calling you back in to help, but medical has you down for another two days leave…." barring another emergency, went unsaid, before Nadia lowered her voice. "Graham wants to debrief Jack as well."

Chloe looked over at Jack, who sighed, "Yeah, I figured as much."

Oddly, Nadia snickered. "Sorry. It's just, I can see into the office Graham took over and Sgt. Reese is practically chasing him around the room while she screams. He's freaked out by radiation and she's spent enough time in the hot zone to max out her RAD meter. It's kinda funny."

Exchanging a look with Jack, Chloe asked, "When was the last time you got a good nights sleep, Nadia?"

"Sleep, what's that?"

"Well, that answers that," Jack murmured, then offered, "Sugar, coffee and stim pills or sugar, coffee and energy drinks. Do not mix stim pills and energy drinks. The manic state followed by a crash is not pretty."

"Noted," Nadia said, then sighed, "Can we expect you two in a couple of days?"

"I'll be in," Chloe agreed, but didn't want to speak for Jack. They really hadn't talked about what he wanted to do in regards to the CTU, so she didn't know if he was ready to return, even if just for a debrief.

After a moment of silence, Jack murmured, "Yeah, yeah…I'll come in."

"Good." Nadia sounded relieved, then lowered her voice even more to ask, "Have you spoken with Bill?"

"Not since you all showed up here yesterday morning," Chloe answered.

"Okay, Karen is out here with him and she says VP Daniels and Tom Lennox are looking into a total overhaul or even disbanding of the CTU…and without Karen and Bill around to go to bat for us, I don't know what's going to happen."

This was not good.

______________________________________________________________________________

After 9/11, when the US government realized how woefully under prepared they were to cope with a large scale attack on US soil, an extensive document called the National Response Framework was drafted. Contained within this tome are 15 disaster scenarios and detailed Federal and local response plans. The first and probably most feared potential scenario was given the heading, Planning Scenario #1: Nuclear Detonation. While Washington D.C was used in the planning, the set-up could be applied in the occasion of a nuclear detonation in any major city.

On a hazy, hot, already fear filled day, Planning Scenario #1 became a reality.

When the blast went off in Valencia, everything within a 1/3 of a mile was nearly vaporized, buildings reduced to rubble and flesh seared from bones. 15,000 lives were lost in an instant of intense, painful heat, light and a wave of pressure. Anyone .6 - 1 mile from the epicenter had a moment to register the flash of detonation before a wave of pressure and heat overcame them. Buildings in that radius were severely damaged and people suffered massive burns, crushed organs, impact wounds and debris injuries. Outside that area, extending to the 3 mile mark, the shockwave caused lighter structural damage and human injuries, however the streets and highways became clogged with drivers blinded by the thermal flare. Days later, the tally was that approximately 1000 people were permanently blinded and another 3000 had some hope of recovering their sight.

In a matter of seconds, a 10 kiloton bomb containing enriched Uranium rendered a 3 square mile area of California a Nuclear hot zone. Odd, that in an age where the treat of nuclear was is lower than it has been in decades, that the threat of nuclear attack is exponentially increased. And now, no longer theoretical.

Moments after reports of the blast, the NRF launched into effect. Less than 4 minutes later, President Palmer ordered DEFCON 1 and government officials were hustled off to COG bunkers. Still too distant to do anything but observe in horror, response teams watched in horror as the mushroom cloud rose to 14,000 ft., then began to drop fallout as the winds shifted. The initial descent of the fallout contaminated people caught outside or in cars, though intact building did offer some protection from exposure. 15,000 dead. 15,000 wounded. 50,000 exposed.

A multi-tiered plan was immediately enacted, designed to both secure the country and deal with the catastrophic human tragedy. Following SOP, the military locked the country down. Operation SCATANA grounded all air traffic and the TSA, working in conjunction with Homeland Security halted all transport trucks, trains and ships. As ports are some of the least secure entry points into the country, with only 5% of all shipping containers searched, they began scouring for signs of residual radiation. Operating with the knowledge that Fayed was in possession of more than one additional nuclear device, the country was sealed off.

SDMAT- Special Disaster Medical Assistance Teams-, trained by FEMA, were called to duty and transported to California. But for some it was far too late. Everyone inside Zone 1 was dead, or, if they had somehow survived the initial blast, dying. Far too contaminated for rescue teams, no one would be able to enter Zone 1 for at least a week. Zone 2, where response personnel could see injured moving amongst contaminated rubble and fires, is also a hot zone, but one rescuers with appropriate gear could enter. Many injured there were exposed to high doses of radiation, which could cause death in as short a time as a mater of minutes.

The Dangerous Fallout Zone was another issue Search and Rescue personnel were faced with. Teams monitored wind patterns, so as to be able to predict the path of the fallout. It was a small mercy that the air currents carried the toxic cloud from Valencia, out over Oxnard, then to the ocean. Had the winds shifted and taken the cloud and it's deadly ash south to Los Angeles, the death toll would have been unimaginable.

The first responders, the Los Angeles Fire Department, arrived in their protective gear to evacuate people from Zone 3. LAFD Chief Nicholas Rivers became incident commander and an emergency command post was established in a sturdy, office building's lobby.

All around the country, the 400 members of NEST- Nuclear Emergency Search Teams- were rounded up and dispatched to LA to assist in the search for nuclear materials.

On site, LAFD and LAPD cordoned off the affected areas, assisting wounded civilians to medical care, but also keeping anyone from entering the hot zones. More people than anyone would have expected wanted to enter, to search for their missing loved ones, but response teams had to keep them out to limit contamination.

As more hazmat geared personnel arrived, RTR- Radiation Triage and Transport- sites were established to facilitate rescue personnel's access to victims. RTR 1 sites were erected in Zone 2, closest to the epicenter while RTR 2 sites flanked the DFZ. RTR 3 sites were outside the blast radius and prearranged medical centers were designated and supplied with personnel, as were assembly centers for those who were unhurt but displaced.

About 3 hours after the initial blast, the first members of CBIRF- Chemical Biological Incident Response Force- arrived. The highly trained search and rescue Marines headed in, cloaked in protective gear and dosed with Potassium Iodide, to Zone 2. Still, they could not enter Zone 1 or the DFZ. 100,000 died or were dying, waiting for help that simply could come.

CBIRF Marines are trained to minimize their own exposure, due to the fact that if they fall ill they would no longer be able to assist rescue operations. Equip with Dosimeters that beep when registering 45 RADS, it is at that point members of CBIRF are supposed to return to the Cool Zones for rest and decon showers. If a CBIRF Marine registers at 100 RADS or higher, they are pulled from the Hot Zones, as their exposure becomes dangerous. But any Marine would tell you, they'd risk themselves to save another.

Most people pulled from the wreckage were deposited at Casualty Collection Points, where medical corpsman were tasked with the ghastly duty of triage using the DIME system. Each patient was tagged with a colored label. Yellow- Delayed care okay. Red- Immediate care needed. Green- Minimal injuries. Black- Expectant death. Most red tags turned black in short order, as proper medical care was unavailable.

Less than 3 days after the blast, DMORTS- Disaster Mortuary Assistance Teams- began the gruesome task of identifying the bodies still being recovered. Tent cities of the dead were erected in open sports fields and along the River.

Despite the Dosimeters and rigorous scouring of decon showers, initial response CBIRF Marines began to test too high on the RAD scale and were ordered out of the hot zones. Determined to do their duties to best of their abilities, the accepted whatever roles they were assigned.

Which was how Master Sergeant Josephine Reese found herself at CTU, where the Incident Command Post had been relocated due to a need for clearer comm systems and Intel. Though not trained like her CBIRF team, the LAPD and LAFD had acquitted themselves remarkably well and a CTU agent managed to track down the other nuclear materials and the source, so that was one less worry for everyone.

Days after the detonation, search and rescue operations were in full swing and the local teams were working well in conjunction with the fresh military teams that arrived daily. The only fly in the ointment was Ben Graham, the schmuck in charge at the CTU, who seemed content to sit around with his thumb up his ass, whine about the former director of CTU and freak out whenever Jo, with her high RAD count got close to him.

Normally, she would have kept her distance from the slimy prick, but it was funny to watch him run away, so she hovered. It provided some much needed comic relief.

It quickly became evident that if they wanted any actual work to be done, they had to discretely circumvent Graham entirely and work with Nadia Yasir, who seemed to understand that Graham was a window licker.

Gathering up the latest series of reports she'd received from various CBIRF teams still in the field, Jo rose from the small desk she'd been assigned and went is search of Nadia. The other woman had taken to ducking in and out of the comms floor in order to avoid Graham. It was a sound defensive technique, especially since scooping the jag-off's testicals out with a melon baller and feeding them to him would probably be frowned upon.

Her black and white digital camo gear stood out amongst the neat suits and business casual gear of the CTU employees and uniforms of various police and fire department officers. Occasionally, a black BDU'd CTU field agent would wander by, but apparently a large number of them had died in the initial blast and they were a bit shell shocked.

Nadia emerged from one of the side offices, determined and not even sparing Jo a glance as she strode by. Following her gaze, the Marine took note of a handful of new arrivals. Of course she recognized Karen Hayes, the recently resigned National Security Advisor and the two men were vaguely familiar but the other woman was an unknown.

"Thank God," Nadia's soft exclamation carried and drew a few gazes from around the room. She waved the four of them over to the office she had exited, tossing a look up to see if Graham noticed their arrival. He hadn't and didn't notice as they disappeared into the room.

Immediately the murmurs began. Jo caught snatches of conversations, names. "Bauer…" the blond man. He'd been the major player in the successful recovery of the other nukes and the apprehension of individuals involved. After being assigned to the CTU, she'd heard about him and looked him up in the system. Even with huge chunks of his CV redacted for National Security reasons, it was clear he was a force to be reckoned with. "Mr. Buchanan…" the taller man, with silver hair well on it's way to going white. The former director of CTU, whom none of the staff were happy about losing, he was Ms. Hayes's husband. "Chloe O'Brien…" That was the woman, CTU's lead analyst, all around technical goddess and resident sarcastic wit. A lot of the things Jo heard about her had to do with her fabled relationship with Bauer. No one seemed to know quite how to categorize it, but the consensus was it was deep and mutual.

One of Graham's division lackeys started looking uppity, as though he was about to go and snitch on the arrival of Hayes and the others. Deciding they deserved a few minutes to try and sort out the cluster-fuck Graham had made of the situation, Jo stalked over to the tech and slammed a file down on the desk, making the man jump and look up at her.

"You call this a comprehensive situation overview?! I've seen a more thorough accounting of events in a third grader's 'What I did on my summer vacation' essay! Are you incompetent or merely stupid? Do it again and this time do it right!" One of the great things about the Corps was that everyone had the picture of a huge, terrifying drill sergeant in the back of their minds. All she had to do glare and shout, and if possible loom, and people tended to back down as though she was a lot scarier than she looked.

Which she was, but really a 5'8" Dutch/Portuguese/Chinese woman wasn't generally a scary sight…but add in the attitude and training of the Marine Corps and she could have men twice her mass cowering in fear.

The division lackey was nowhere near as tough as a green recruit and sunk back into his chair, eyes darting to the report, then up to Graham's office, where they could see the man chatting with someone on the phone. He winced and stammered, "I…I was just about to…."

"To redo that report," Jo snapped, flipping open the file, then physically spinning the man's chair back to the computer. "We need accurate Intel to co-ordinate our searches. I see you out of this chair before an updated and correct accounting is in my hand, you're gonna wish your ass was out there in the field, digging through toxic sludge. Are we clear?"

"I…"

"Are. We. Clear?"

The lackey swallowed and nodded, hunching over his keyboard. "Okay."

Straightening, she locked eyes with Captain Rivers who nodded. He shared her opinion that Graham needed a kick in the head and had some hopes that Buchanan, Hayes and the others could restore some order to the CTU. They had to be more effective that Graham. Hell, a drunk, dyslexic Tasmanian Devil would be better than that chimp in a suit.

They deserved a chance to sort shit out before Graham stuck his nose into things and started causing trouble. Handing off her carefully summarized reports to Rivers, Jo planted herself at the base of the stairs that led up to the office Graham had taken over. A few of the people on the floor gave her a funny look, but backed down under her glare.

The whole situation was totally FUBAR, but then again, the world was pretty damn FUBAR right now. It was their job to try and keep everything from snowballing into something completely insurmountable.

And if playing interference between effective people and the bureaucrats who just tossed more fuel on the fire, then so be it.

God, she so wished she was out in the field. Hauling irradiated people out of the hot zone so much easier than dealing with this crap.

____________________________________________________________________________________

As he approached the stairs that led to the upper offices, Jack's step faltered slightly and he silently cursed himself. Upon spotting Chloe and himself, Sgt. Reese snapped to attention. Obviously, she was showing respect and deference to the role they played in resolving the latest nuclear crisis.

It was a move whose motives were pure, but still he flinched. Reese was a tall young woman whose features clearly spoke of Asian ancestry. Mixed to be sure, but still obvious. He supposed it was a bit of discomfort left over from his time in Cheng's company and he hoped it wouldn't linger for too long.

Feeling Chloe's hand on his arm, he offered the marine a nod and, willing himself to relax, ascended the stairs, rapping on the door and receiving a frustrated "What?" from the man within.

With an amused smirk, Jack glanced at Chloe, who was similarly entertained. Schooling their expressions, Jack opened the door then let Chloe proceed him into the room.

Graham was standing behind the desk, looking close to tearing his hair out as he shouted into the phone's receiver. "What do you mean the transfer is being delayed? The interrogation needs to begin and he's insisting he doesn't speak English! We can't do anything but let him set in holding….I…All right, fine!"

He slammed the receiver down and looked up at them with a glare. Obviously not the best time to see him, but oh well.

"Well, good of you two to finally show up," Graham practically snarled at them. He was looking a bit frayed from the stress of the job and clearly irritated by whomever was on the phone. Waving them into chairs, he demanded, "Do you have any idea the difficulties this place has been facing over the past few days?"

They stared at him for several moments before realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question. Then they gaped. He was seriously asking them if they understood the stress of the job? If it wasn't so horrifying, it'd be funny.

"You wouldn't be so screwed if your tech people weren't morons," Chloe said honestly and bluntly, folding her arms and returning his glare defiantly. Clearly, she felt no need to coddle the man who had brought in interlopers to touch her systems. "It's like watching a bunch of retarded chimps whacking away at the keyboards down there."

Graham blinked at her in shock, not sure how to react to that statement, so he transferred his focus to Jack. "I'm going to need both written and spoken de-briefs of your actions during the crisis and…before."

Clearly, the bureaucrat's attempt at discretion was a reaction to the death gaze Jack focused on him. It was good to know that, despite his months of incarceration, he could still make the suit and tie brigade shake in their over priced loafers.

"All right," he agreed after a moment, then asked, "Who will I be giving my statement too?"

The man gritted his teeth and said, "After the written, I'll speak with you…" The phone rang and he groaned. "If I ever get off the phone."

Ignoring Jack and Chloe again, he lifted the phone and muttered, "Graham…Not yet…No…The roads…We need a…Well, maybe. Hold on"

Stalking over to the door, Graham threw it open then shouted down onto the floor. "Sergeant Reese, could you go down to holding and help with Cheng's interrogation."

The young woman looked up from where she was comparing notes with Rivers and said, "I'm a little busy here."

Graham heaved a sigh and said, "He's insisting he doesn't speak English now and with all the craziness, we can't get an interpreter down here, so if you could…."

Oh, this was not going to be good. Jack could see that coming from a mile away and he was pretty darn screwed up himself.

"Could what?"

"Go translate."

From their seats, Jack and Chloe saw Reese exchange dumbfounded looks with Rivers, then glare up at Graham and spit, "I'm sixth generation American. I grew up in northern Maine. I took French in high school, not Chinese."

Graham's face turned a shade of red so livid it looked like he was about to stroke out and he retreated back into the office. That sort of assumption was not one the P.C. conscious higher ups would be pleased to hear about. Dropping into the chair, he appeared startled to see Jack and Chloe still peering at him. "Why are you still here! Go do…things."

Well, that was clear, Jack thought as he and Chloe rose from their chairs and made their to the door. Before they were out of the room, Graham said, "Bauer, you wouldn't happen to have picked up…."

"No," Jack said crisply and snapped the door shut behind himself before following Chloe down the stairs.

"He's a mess. Even I know that was tactless," Chloe said softly, showing the sort of discretion she usually reserved for their quasi legal world saving ventures. Jack supposed organizing a coup to depose Graham could fall into that category.

"That will work in our favor," he assured her, subtly indicating for her to look over at Rivers, who had been drawn into a discussion with Nadia, Bill and Karen while Sgt. Reese seemed to be intimidating Graham's minions into submission.

A quick scan of the room showed that Graham's chief incompetent minion had take up a place at Chloe's desk and was directing a largely futile attempt to access the CTU servers from there. All of Chloe's analysts and more than a few Division underlings kept shooting the man scathing looks. Obviously, he was not a well loved manager.

They reached Chloe's station and, as she stared at her workspace, her expression shifted. Outright contempt warred with barely suppressed homicidal leanings and Jack almost felt bad for the Division lackey still in her chair. Almost.

"What. Did. You. Do?" She barely got the words out through clenched teeth and her small hands balled into fists by her side.

The man at her desk turned slightly, then dismissed her with barely a glance that never ventured above chest level. "Look, I don't have time to explain everything to you CTU people," he said, arrogant condescension dripping from his tone. "This is a very complex system, so why don't you go do whatever it is that you do, m'kay?"

Chloe's shock was probably the only thing that allowed Jack to catch her hand before she punched Division Asshat 2.0 in the neck. Keeping a gentle hold of her hand, Jack growled, "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Around the Comm floor, CTU staffers tensed. Even those who hadn't heard Bauer use that particular tone had heard stories…stories that did not end well for whomever he was speaking to. Even the Division folks looked uneasy, and it was clear that only a few of them were bright enough to work with the CTU staff instead of banishing them.

Division Asshat 2.0 turned again and this time actually took in the expressions of the people glaring down at him. He swallowed, clearly not liking what he was seeing and said, "I'm Bert Abelard, Systems Protocol Manager. And you are?"

"Chloe O'Brien," she snarled, then leaned forward. "Get out of my seat and away from my station."

"But I'm working…."

"Find. Another. Terminal."

As much as Jack was enjoying watching Chloe browbeat the little paper pusher, he knew they needed to get to work. "I'd listen to her Bert," he said, tone falsely light and full of menace. "Chloe doesn't like it when people mess with her systems."

"All right," Abelard said, rising slowly, then added, "I'm supposed to be auditing your system, looking for the weak spots that were exploited to allow the terrorists to infiltrate this facility."

"Observe and audit all you want, but get away from me. I need to try and fix what you've done." Chloe dropped into her seat and glared angrily at the mess of circuit boards and wires protruding from the small, dedicated hard drive. "What idiot tried to do a work around from here?"

Abelard stalked off in a huff and a snicker came from a nearby desk. A young man spun away from the computer he was idly poking at and offered Chloe a big grin. "That was great," he said, extending one long, lanky arm towards her, fist extended. "Come on. Don't leave me hanging."

Adopting an expression Jack categorized as 'humoring the crazy man', Chloe somewhat awkwardly tapped her own fist against the man's. Peering at him, she said, "Are you from Division too?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, "But don't hold it against me. Most of us hate Ol' Bert over there. Seriously, the man's only appreciable skill is kissing ass but since he's the boss we gotta listen to him."

Chloe regarded the young man, then gestured to the mess on her desk. "This is his work?"

"Yup." The answer was short, but he added. "Bert didn't want to hear that we couldn't circumvent your protocols from out here, had to be done down in Tech 1, cause if he went down there Graham couldn't see him working."

Jack snorted. Neither he nor Chloe had any tolerance for people like that. In their world, you did your job, did it better than anyone else, credit and accolades be damned.

Leaving Chloe to her work, Jack sat at a nearby station, pulled up the proper forms and began trying to work on his report. He was fairly sure there wouldn't be a set form ready to handle everything he had to report, but that was okay with him. He wasn't sure he wanted to go into it all immediately.

After a few moments, he glanced up and caught Bills eye. The former CTU director was still talking with Chief Rivers, who seemed to have come around to their point of view. The nod Buchanan sent in Jack's direction was encouraging. Maybe there was a chance of getting some effective leadership after all.

TBC….

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	2. Chapter 11

Chloe never thought she'd be wistfully recalling the days when pushy outside agencies would send the likes of Miles Papazian to annoy her. While he was nasty and had people skills that made her own look well developed, he was at least somewhat capable. Abelard was an ass and a moron. Obviously, he got where he was by being an obsequious sycophant and not do to an impressive skill set.

Undoing the damage he'd done took hours, even with the help of her staff and Nick Mankuba, the Division tech whom had been so delighted to witness her verbal smack down of his boss. In his attempts to get around her firewalls, Abelard had corrupted several of her systems and she'd had to reboot from the restore point she'd set up before leaving. It was a good thing she had done that, or they'd have lost days worth of protocol and data analysis.

Occasionally, she glanced over at Jack, who was quietly working on the written report Graham had asked for. After a while, he had abandoned the set forms and found a pen and paper, hand writing pages and pages of information. The more he wrote, the more Chloe worried, as his expression changed, grew more haunted and detached and his grip on the pen became a knuckle whitening strangle hold.

"I'll be back," she told Nick, rising from her chair and wincing at the protest from her muscles. She'd been hunched over her computer for hours and there was still a lot of work to do, but she wanted to try and talk Jack into taking a break. He needed one psychologically and she needed one physically. Of course she knew he would want to keep on working but if she asked him to come get a snack with her, she figured he'd relent.

Circling the station Jack was using, she made sure to approach well within his line of sight. If Jack was about to have one of his moments, she didn't think the entire floor needed to witness it, so limiting any surprise for him was a good idea. "Jack," she said quietly, hoping to draw his attention without startling him. "Jack?"

After her second call, he jumped slightly, eyes darting around the room before settling on her face. Confusion flitted through his eyes before they cleared and he said, "Yes, Chloe. Are you okay?"

Again with that. It seemed like that phase was a part of a significant part of a number of their conversations.

"My back hurts, I have a headache and I'm hungry," Chloe said without preamble, ignoring his zone out. It seemed to be the strategy that worked for them. "Come get a snack with me."

Jack blinked at her, then looked down at his copious report. Flipping the notebook closed, he pushed back from the desk and rose, keeping the report in hand. "Okay," he agreed easily enough and followed her docilely to the break room.

Calm Jack was fine. She even liked it when he was agreeable, but there was a fine line. Gentle prodding would be required to shake him back into the comparatively good frame of mind that he had begun the day with.

By this point, Bill, Karen, Nadia, Rivers and Reese were facing off against Graham and Abelard up in the office. From the looks of things, there was a teleconference involved. They all looked serious, but Graham was the only one who looked like his head was going to explode. She figured Abelard was too stupid to realize he was in deep shit.

Hopefully, the entire Graham/Abelard debacle would be resolved soon. That would certainly help move things along.

But for now, her concern was finding something to eat. Apparently, the baby was hungry today.

Peering into the fridge, Chloe gingerly poked through the contents. There were a truly terrifying number of giant, high sugar, super caffeinated energy drinks and a massive stack of Styrofoam takeout containers. Most of those seemed fit for the biohazard bin, not eating though. Then she smiled, finding what she was looking for.

Retrieving the two small plastic cups, she found a pair of spoons then sat on the lumpy sofa, motioning Jack to join her. When he sat, she handed him a cup and said, "I think you'll like this."

Jack smiled and peeled back the little tinfoil lid. Lifting it, he sniffed and said, "Raspberry? And Chocolate."

"Yup," she said, spooning some into her mouth and returning his smile. "They're so good. Chocolate and Raspberry Parfaits."

Sampling the treat, Jack nodded. "You're right. This is good."

They sat for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet and the food. When Chloe finished hers, she looked down at her still flat stomach and asked, "Happy now?"

Jack looked puzzled for a moment, then actually grinned. "Little baby O'Brien had the munchies?"

"That's my story," she smirked, then shrugged. "It's better than the vomiting. I wasn't liking that."

He grimaced in sympathy, then followed her gaze to her tummy. "How far along are you?"

"Eight maybe nine weeks," she sighed. "I think I was in denial. The doctor said they can do an ultrasound here, cause things are so crazy out there I might have trouble getting an OB appointment."

"Almost done with the first trimester," he mused with a nod. "Most of Teri's morning sickness ended around the 3 month mark but then the weird cravings began. Of course, by then I was so glad that she'd stopped cursing me that I was perfectly happy getting up at 2 am and going out to hunt for…all sorts of noxious food combinations that I won't mention just yet."

Chloe nodded. "My stomach and I thank you."

"So back ache, head ache, nausea, cravings," Jack ticked off her symptoms. Hearing them all listed together made her shake her head and wonder how she had convinced herself she was just over worked.  
"Pretty much textbook signs."

She nodded. "And my boobs are really tender."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could just bite them back. Jack's eyes widened, ticked to her aforementioned chest and she felt her face reddening. Slowly, his eyes slid up to meet hers, corners of his mouth twitching with suppressed mirth. "They're bigger, too."

For a moment, it was like the words just didn't register in her brain. It seemed an outright impossibility that he had said that. Then, she realized that he had. "Jack!" she snickered and yelped at the same time, far more amused than scandalized. He lost the battle to contain his own laughter and the sound of it dissipated the last of the lingering discomfort from her blurted statement. "You," she declared through her own chuckles (because she didn't giggle, god damn it! Stupid hormones!), "Should not know that!"

He rolled his eyes at her. "I'd be more worried if I didn't," he smirked, settling back into the couch. "I'm a very observant man after all."

She made an inarticulate sound of mock outrage that was softened by her grin as she reached over and thumped her palm against his shoulder, careful to hit the one she knew not to have had a recent encounter with a knife. The fresh wound she'd seen there looked like someone had used a blade to dig around in his flesh, but Jack was typically Jack and acted like it was a paper cut.

Sobering a bit, she said, "Have you…I mean, I know you haven't, but you should think about making a visit to medical yourself."

"I think they're probably a little busy dealing with folks in worse shape than me," he said, then scowled. "Besides…you know they're going to want to sick a shrink on me."

Yeah, the shrinks would be fighting to talk with him, see what the 20 months of torture and captivity had done to his psyche. Chloe was willing to bet anything those same shrinks would be fighting to get away from him after a few minutes. Another thing she and Jack shared was a distain for that particular profession and Chloe had always enjoyed messing with their heads when the higher ups decided she 'needed to speak with someone'. She took great pride in the fact that she'd made the last one cry and Nadia said the man had retired and taken up raising Alpaca's in some flyover state.

She could care less about the company shrinks, but she did think Jack needed a doctor to look after his physical well being. His eating habits over the past several days said he was severely deprived of vitamins and minerals and craving them. The gallon of OJ with each breakfast and the near constant chugging of milk was a major clue.

Time to pull out the big guns.

"I'd feel better if you at least got a check up," she said, placing a hand on her belly and looking over at him. "You know I worry about you."

His expression immediately became more serious and he started nodding. "Okay, I'll go down there before we leave…Hey! Are you trying to guilt me into giving in to you?!"

Damn, she must have smiled too quickly. "Yes," she admitted with a shrug, then cocked her head to the side. "Is it working? I'm not too good at this sort of thing."

Jack sighed but chuckled again. "Yeah, I'll go before we leave."

"Thank you," she replied, settling against the back of the couch, her shoulder brushing his arm. "Seriously though, I don't want you keeling over from some undetected internal injury. That would suck."

"Agreed," he said, spooning another small bite of parfait into his mouth. He was still eating very slowly so as to allow his stomach to adapt to foods again…aside from the occasional liquids binge. The one time he had eaten quickly had been the day before when she had handed him a roast beef sandwich. It had disappeared in half a minute and he'd ended up vomiting not long after.

It hadn't been pleasant and had caused a bit of a chain reaction with her touchy tummy. Yeah, nothing said 'I trust you enough to be totally disgusting in front of you' like sharing a toilet bowl while you both threw up everything you'd eaten. Ever.

Okay, she really didn't want to think about that. "So," she said, changing the topic before icky thoughts cause a reappearance of her snack, "I figure I should be expecting the little one to make his or her presence visible pretty soon."

"Probably," he said, then smirked. "You know, lots of people see a baby belly and have to touch it. It's like instinct. You may want to set up some ground rules to limit the casualties."

Chloe frowned, not liking the idea that people would violate her personal space like that and actually touch her. Being pregnant did not make her a petting zoo, God damn it! She'd definitely have to lay down the law when the time came. Seriously, if anyone started pawing at her, they were gonna draw back a bloodied stump.

"I hadn't thought of that," she said. "Thanks for the warning. Not big on the random touching."

He nodded quiet for a moment, contemplating the nearly empty pudding cup, then asked, "Does it…I touch you. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can…."

"No, it's okay," she interrupted, scrunching up her face as she tried to figure out exactly how to explain something she really didn't understand herself. "We've known each other a long time…It's actually kind of comforting."

"Yeah," he murmured, turning his head to look at her. "When you hugged me the other day…it was the first time in a long time I didn't want to avoid physical contact with someone."

People said they were cold, hard…and sometimes they were right. The jobs kind of required them to be, but there were moments…their moments. The walls came down when they were together or rather they merged, each protecting and supporting the other.

Sitting on the break room sofa, their empty pudding cups on the table beside them, neither of them were hard. They didn't have to be.

She smiled and bumped his arm with her shoulder then let her head drop against his shoulder for a moment. They had peace briefly amongst the chaos of the CTU.

But of course, all moments end.

Nadia strode into the room, blinking when she saw them but thankfully choosing not to comment. "There you are. Come on. We need you two." With that, she spun, quickly moving back in the direction she had come from.

Exchanging a look, Jack and Chloe rose. They were needed.

Story of their freakin' lives.

 

TBC…………

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	3. Chapter 12

When Chloe wrapped up her work for the day, she had gone looking for Jack, whom she last saw speaking with Bill, Karen and Nadia. Upon Graham's ousting, VP Daniels had turned CTU's command back over to Nadia, since it would have been seen as a sign of weakness to reinstate someone whose resignation had basically been demanded, like Bill or Karen. For the duration of the current crisis and recovery operation, she was given the authority to use whatever resources were available to her, including outside consultants…like Bill.

Ah, politics. How they unnecessarily complicated things.

So at least the CTU's resources were now assisting with the rescue efforts. As Chloe looked around, she saw Nadia and Reese looking at a map of security perimeters around the Hot Zones, while Bill and Rivers were talking personnel deployment. Karen was speaking with someone on the phone and as Chloe watched, the woman nodded to her husband who added something to the list he was compiling.

Jack was nowhere to be seen on the comms floor.

The sound of a throat being cleared made her turn to regard Nick, who was pushing himself from one station to another on a rolling chair, shutting down programs and logging himself off of the systems. When she met his gaze, he pointed out of the room and said, "Saw your boy heading to medical 'bout an hour ago."

"Thanks," she said with a nod and turned to head down there to check. He had promised to see the doctor, but she wanted to make sure he waited and got the results. After a few steps, she stopped and turned, looking back at Nick and said, "Good work today."

Normally, she wasn't one to offer praise, but the younger man had proven to be very good at his job once freed from Abelard's oppressive thumb. He did his work, took initiative and got results. That was something to be encouraged.

Mankuba offered a grin and a salute, touching two fingers to his brow before returning to his task.

As she walked down the hall, Chloe made a mental note to find out if he'd be interested in a job at CTU…that is, if there still was a CTU after things settled down.

She entered Medical to find the place silent and more or less abandoned. In fact, it seemed as though Jack was the only person in the place. He was sitting on one of the treatment beds, his heavy hoodie pulled on over what looked to be a set of scrubs. His bare feet were swinging slightly as they dangled and Chloe smiled as she watched him for a moment.

"Hey," she said, causing him to look up from his apparently intense study of the material of his pants. "How are things going?"

Jack shrugged and offered a rueful grin. "Have you met Dr. Armstrong? Very thorough and not too happy that I never got my shoulder looked at till now, but on the positive side, I barely felt the needle for the blood work."

Crossing the room to stand by the bed, Chloe leaned her hip against the wall, then hopped up to sit beside Jack when he patted the empty space. "That's all? I mean, I know it's bad enough but…."

His body was covered in scars and she figured after 20 months, there had to be more than surface damage.

He sighed. "He did a complete physical…and took some scans of my right hip. It's a little tender."

"Huh." He hadn't said anything about it before, but Chloe was well versed in the world according to Jack Bauer. If he was admitting that something was a little tender then most people would probably be requesting heavy duty narcotics to help them get through the day. "I've got a heating pad at home somewhere. You can use it tonight."

"Thanks," he replied with a smile but before they could continue on, a brisk voice interrupted.

"In my own opinion, you should be curled up in a ball weepin' or in coma if you were lucky, which you obviously ain't. I've no idea how you're still upright, let alone runnin' 'round doin'…your thing."

Dr. Allan Armstrong was a slender young man with a shock of reddish hair and a rough, North London accent. He had a chart in hand, obviously full of the quick results of Jack's blood work. The doctor's eye's were on the papers as he re-entered the room from the attached lab area. He paused when he noticed Chloe and said, "Sorry, uh, could you give us a moment please?"

"She can stay," Jack replied quickly and Chloe jumped slightly when his fingers wrapped around his wrist to keep her close. This made Chloe think he was a bit nervous about finding out what the results of the tests said despite his earlier insistence that he was fine.

"Right then," the doctor sighed and consulted the chart again. "Let's start with the vitamin deficiencies, shall we? A, B, B12, C, D…basically, you're low on the whole alphabet. A few boosters and some daily multi-vite's should help with that. Then we have Magnesium, Folic Acid, Calcium, Zinc and Niacin all quite low, Cobalamin and Iron very low. You have quite the case of Anemia, so I recommend plenty of red meat in addition the pills I'm going to prescribe."

So far, nothing sounded too terrible. Chloe had been expecting a few deficiencies and all of these were things that diet and supplements could help fix.

"Now, the more worryin' is you potassium level, which is very low. You're mildly hypokalemic, so I'm gonna to give you a heavy dose of K in a moment, then a prescription you have to follow. I'll need to see you back in three days. If these levels haven't risen considerably, we'll put in an IV. This is serious. Your potassium drops too low, you die."

That was indeed a bit more worrying and Chloe made a mental note to foist bananas on Jack whenever possible.

"WBC's are a bit elevated, probably fightin' off infections in any of the number of open wounds you're wearin'…but can I say, you're immune system is extremely robust, especially for someone with Anemia and the rest of those vitamin issues. I mean, a normal person in your state would pick up a germ and their whole body would just be ravaged, but you…Your WBC's are like El Al security personnel. Highly trained, ruthless and incredibly effective."

Even Jack seemed a bit amused by the young man's babbling and Chloe supposed this must be Armstrong's version of bedside manner. She found she liked it much better than the usual coddling of civilian doctors or the brisk rudeness of most CTU medical personnel.

"Movin' on, aside from the scars, you're in surprisingly good shape, considering what you went through. In a few years, when the signs of arthritis start appearin', I'm sure the healed fractures'll act up, but for now no breaks, ligaments and tendons are intact and no internal damage…other than that hip you mentioned."

Armstrong pulled out something that looked to Chloe to be a fancy X-Ray. From the expression on Jack's face, it meant as little to him.

"What am I looking at?" Jack asked, not looking particularly happy with this revelation.

"Your hip and the bursa sac which cushions the joint. Basically, what you have here is Trochanteric bursitis. The bursa sac is inflamed from trauma and years of physical activity. While you're time in China didn't help matters, it's not the root cause. I'll give ya a treatment regime you can start on at home, but you might want to look into a sports physiotherapist."

Chloe wondered if they had any physio's vetted and cleared to know any details of what they did and how exactly Jack had been hurt. Probably, considering all the damage their agent's tended to do to themselves…though CTU field agent's did tend to die of their on the job injuries and thus not require after care. Not the best statistic for recruiting new agents, which they were in dire need of at the moment.

Instead of making that point, Jack just said, "Thanks." Then he held out a hand, obviously requesting the aforementioned prescriptions and treatment advice. He didn't want to prolong the amount of time he had to stay in Medical, and Chloe could understand his motivations, but she felt compelled to ask a question.

"Are there any particular foods that will help with those vitamin deficiencies?" she asked, drawing a sigh from Jack. Giving him a look, she said, "What? I had to ask, unless you want me to be staging sneak attacks with orange juice or banana smoothies."

Dr. Armstrong chuckled and nodded, waving a thick packet of papers. "There's a list in here, but the smoothie's not a bad idea," he told them, then, looking between Jack and Chloe, handed over the information to Chloe. "Now, I've put a referral in there for you to go see, Dr. Dominic. He's the new psych guy…I hear the last fellow left kinda suddenly, something about you people makin' him crazy."

Smirking, Chloe tried not to seem too pleased with herself, but Jack caught her look and asked, "Your work?"

"You'd think the CTU would employ people with less delicate sensibilities to help us 'overcome the strain placed upon us by our jobs'. I hadn't even been talking for five minutes and the guy burst into tears." She didn't bother to hide her disdain. Hell, she wasn't a field agent and she had no trouble coping with the magnitude of some of the things they were required to do.

With another chuckle, Armstrong offered, "Dominic put himself though med school on the GI Bill. Apparently, he was Force Recon, saw some combat, so maybe he won't flake out on you."

Jack shrugged. He still didn't like the idea of having to talk to someone about how he felt about his imprisonment. At least not a shrink, even one with combat experience. It didn't compare. "Thanks, Doc. Are we done here?"

"Just need to give you those boosters," the doctor agreed genially, motioning to the nurse, who had been hovering in the lab door with a tray covered in syringes.

The process of giving the shots was quick and fairly painless. Jack slid his right arm out of the sweatshirt, offering the limb to the doctor, who easily slid the needle into a vein, then simply pushed the contents of the full, needle less syringes through that. Another shot was quickly administered to the bicep and that was that.

Armstrong stepped back and reminded them, "Now remember, back here in three days to check those potassium levels."

Both Jack and Chloe nodded, and while Jack ducked behind a privacy screen to change, Chloe accepted the large bag of medications from the nurse. Normally, they would have gone to a pharmacy, but with all the craziness, they couldn't be sure the shelves would be stocked, Armstrong had sent someone down to the on site medical storage lockers to fill the prescriptions. They were pretty important.

The medical personnel disappeared of to wherever they disappeared to when not working on someone, leaving Chloe alone to wait for Jack. He wasn't long, appearing only a minute later, once again dressed in his boots, jeans, long sleeved, white t-shirt under blue button down and blue and white hoodie. It had been a fleeting impulse when she had been at Wal-Mart, selecting all of Jacks shirts in shades of blue, grey or white. She liked those colors on him.

"Ready to go?" he asked her and, from his desire to leave, Chloe figured he'd had enough CTU for the day. To be honest, it had been a long day for her too.

She nodded and hopped down off of the bed. He took the unwieldy bag of medication out of her arms, but she held onto the stack of papers. "We can stop at Wal-Mart on the way home, pick up the foods on the list," she told him, then briefly reflected how strangely easy it was to talk about her home as Jack's as well. Weird.

As they headed out into the hall, he made a little, disgruntled noise. "Are you sure? I mean, what if it's not open…"

"Jack, it was open the day after the bomb went off," she said, vaguely amused at his reluctance to shop. Not that she was a big fan of shopping, but men seemed genetically pre-disposed to hating it.

After brief goodbyes, they made their way though the city toward the Wal-Mart Chloe had visited only days before. Once there, Chloe briefly contemplated swinging through the men's section to harass the staff again, but thought that might be a little much for Jack. Since his initial protest, he had been quietly compliant, and was presently wandering along at her side as she pushed a cart through the food department.

By the time they finished, the cart was full of an odd mix of foods and supplements, from Wheat Bran to Cod Liver Oil to Milk Chocolate (it was on the list of Calcium rich foods!). The kid at the register gave them a funny look, but didn't comment as he rang up their purchases.

Piling into the car, they headed for Chloe's house. It had been a long day, and they had many more like it to look forward to.

TBC…….

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	4. Chapter 13

Most people would consider a vacation their God given right after surviving nearly two years of torture in a foreign prison, but Chloe knew Jack as Not most people. He'd continued to come to CTU with her in the mornings and spent his days helping co-ordinate rescue efforts and dodging medical personnel. He never even considered taking some time off, even though Chloe wasn't sure what his exact status was at the moment.

Without Graham and his lackeys to interfere, they were operating much more efficiently. Chloe had decided she was definitely going to try to get Nick transferred to her staff and Jack had stopped twitching when Reese moved too quickly into his line of sight. Of course, it probably helped that the young woman had noted his reactions and adapted, trying not to approach him from behind and speaking to announce her presence.

It wasn't until Bill told him to take a few days that he did and Chloe had been nervous at first. A part of her was sure she'd come home from work and Jack would be gone. When she left in the morning, he had still been in bed, seemingly intent on getting some sleep, but she knew he'd soon be up and about, alone with his thoughts, which weren't often pleasant.

She arrived home that day with a more than slight sense of dread, but found her fears…kind of unfounded. Jack was still there, sitting on the couch, an episode of some DIY show playing on the TV. He seemed a little tired but relaxed and offered her a smile as she passed by to go wash up.

Pausing at the bathroom door, she gazed into the room in shock. In the time she'd lived in the house, she had never seen tile that clean and shining….hell, probably never in her whole life. She hadn't even known the grout was that bright white color, had just assumed it was the dingy, off-white it had been when she bought the place. The fixtures all sparkled and shone and there was a lingering odor of bleach and lemons hanging in the air.

Puzzled, she turned and glanced back out into the living room. She hadn't noticed before, cause it's not like the place had been a mess, but now that she knew to look the signs were clear. Light bounced off polished wood, the carpet showed signs of being freshly washed and vacuumed. Even the corners where walls met ceiling and small cobwebs had been threatening to form had been thoroughly cleaned.

She was willing to bet the kitchen had gotten the same bleaching as the bathroom. At least she knew what he'd kept himself occupied with during the day.

After washing up, she discovered her hunch had been correct. The kitchen was indeed spotless, all gleaming stainless steel and granite and tile. When she opened the fridge to grab a bottle of water, she caught a stronger whiff of the products used to clean it's interior. If she didn't know better, she'd think it was a new appliance, as it looked like it had never been used before.

She wondered if this was something to bring up to Dr. Dominic. Jack had seen the man twice and, so far, he hadn't run screaming from the building. Then again, after much, chocolate assisted prodding, Chloe had gotten Jack to admit he hadn't actually said anything to the shrink yet. The man was apparently content to let things run their course and had willingly sat in a room with Jack, simply trading stares for two hours. That alone was enough to convince Chloe that Dominic was made of much sterner stuff than the typical CTU shrinks, who still shuddered and traded terrified murmurs of, "Alpacas!" every time they saw her.

"So, Jack," she said lightly, making her way back into the living room and taking a seat on the couch beside him. "Busy day?"

He shrugged, glancing away from the screen where an excitable designer was making noise about curb appeal. Briefly, Chloe wondered if she'd come home tomorrow to find that he'd re-landscaped the entire yard. "Not really," he said, then waved a hand at their surroundings. "I hope you don't mind. I did some cleaning."

Some cleaning. That was one of Jack's understatements, like when he said he was facing some enemy fire (read into that: facing 20 hostiles with automatic weapons and possibly nuclear capabilities) or when he said "I'm fine!" in that tone ( it really meant, "I've been stabbed and or shot, possibly multiple times but I'm still on my feet and I don't think any major organs were hit!"). Her house looked like those two British ladies and their squad of cleaning gremlins from How Clean Is Your House? had blitzed it.

"I saw. Thanks," she replied simply, then had to ask, "In the bathroom, the grout…was it that color before and just dirty?"

"Grout discolors after a while," he said lightly, adding, "I bleached it."

I could tell, she thought, propping her feet up on the edge of the coffee table. "You do know that the idea of time off is to relax, right?"

He turned to her and smiled. "I am relaxed. I like having something to do though."

"Okay," she said with a shrug. "Just don't overdo it."

Jack nodded, then turned back to the TV. After a few moments of silence he said, "I'm going to replace the missing shingles on the roof tomorrow…and clean the rain gutters."

Chloe chuckled and shook her head. "Just promise me you'll spend at least one day lying on the couch watching inane TV and eating Cheetos and ice cream. Please, for the sanity of me and the rest of the worlds people who consider a vacation a reason to become human sloth's."

"Doritos instead of Cheetos and you got a deal," he teased, stretching an arm along the back of the couch so that when she tipped her head back it rested against his forearm.

With a small smile she said, "Deal." Then she closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of his arm against the back of her head. She hadn't know Jack was handy around the house, since it had never really come up in conversation before.

Now she was kind of looking forward to letting him loose on Lowes when she dragged him along with her to buy a generator.

 

TBC….


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